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PENNSYLVANIA R AILRO A;:~KE W YORK TO CHICAGO 





THE Gateway to America— statue of liberty, new york harbor. 



PENNSYLVANIA RAILROAD 

TO THE 

Columbian Exposition, 

WITH DESCRIPTIVE NOTES OF THE CITIES OF 

NEW YORK, BALTIMORE, 

PHILADELPHIA, WASHINGTON, 

CHICAGO, 

AND A COMPLETE DESCRIPTION OF THE 

Exposition Grounds and Buildings, 

With Maps and Illustrations. 



SECOND EDITION. 
1893. 



J. R. WOOD, GEO. W. BOYD, 

General Passeng-er Ag-ent. Assistant Geu'l Passenger Agfent. 



^" 






Entered, According to Act of Congress, in the Year 1893, by 

THE PENNSYLVANIA RAILROAD COMPANY, 

In the Office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington, D. C. 



Allen, Lan4 d Scott, Printers, Philadelphia, Pa. 



QtFT 
KATHERINC /. FfSHCR 
JUNE 24 1940 



Pennsylvania Railroad 



TO THE 



COLUMBIAN EXPOSITION. 



NEW YORK. 



^IRE ISLAND LIGHT has been sighted and passed; 
the twin Hghts on the highlands of Navesink have 
come into view, and now Saady Hook, with its 
waste of sand, its light-house, and its embryotic 
fortifications, is lying off to your left. Ahead 
of you is the quarantine ship, from w^hich all 
vessels arriving from infected ports are boarded, 
and three miles beyond, you can see the quar- 
antine stations on Swinburne and Hoffiiian 
Islands. Now the shores of Long Island on 
your right and Staten Island on your left begin 
gradually to converge, and a few minutes later 
you find yourself within what is known as the Narrows, the 
passage-way from the outer vestibule, or lower bay, into the 
beautiful and capacious harbor of New York. 

The health officer and the customs inspectors have come 
aboard, and the latter are distributing blank forms upon which 
you are expected to make a statement of any dutiable goods 
that you may have among your luggage, the term dutiable 

(3) 




applying' to such articles as are not intended for your own 
personal use. While this formality is being gone through with 
the harbor fortifications — Fort Wadsworth, Fort Hamilton, and 
Fort Lafayette — are left behind, the Narrows widen into New 
York Bay, and the Island of Manhattan, upon which is located 
the metropolis of America, lies directly in front of the steamer^ 

Bartholdi' s colossal statue, ' ' Liberty Enlightening the World, ' ' 
the largest statue ever constructed, rises to a height of some- 
thing like three hundred feet above Liberty Island, which occu- 
pies an imposing position in the middle of the harbor, and you 
recall, as you gaze upon its gigantic proportions, that it was 
a gift of France to the United States to commemorate the good- 
will that has ever existed between the two nations. Through 
'the mist that overhangs the water the East River Bridge, with 
its two sky-scraping towers and its sixteen hundred feet of space 
between — the largest suspension bridge in the world — looms up 
in the distance ; Governor's Island, a most important feature 
in the harbor defense of New York, is now on your right, and 
Ellis Island, the landing-place for immigrants, has come into 
sight on your left, lying between Liberty Island and the New 
Jersey shore. 

Now it is that you gather your first impressions of the chief 
city of the new w^orld, the towering buildings, cupolas, and 
spires of which are before you. On the right is Brooklyn, the 
City of Churches, and on the left Jersey City, but between 
them lies the great pulsing heart of American civilization — 
New York. 

Having landed, the choice of an hotel first engrosses your 
attention. The hotels of the city are numerous, and in point 
of location, rates, character of accommodations, and cuisine 
there is large variety. The more popular houses are located 
on upper Broadway and Fifth Avenue, and here you will dis- 
cover a dozen or more from which you may choose, with a 




NEW YORK CITY. 



fair chance of being well satisfied. An excellent plan, when 
economy is an object, is to secure lodgings in a central loca- 
tion and patronize the restaurants and cafes which abound in 
the vicinity, and at many of which a table d' hote breakfast may 
be obtained for from twenty-five to fifty cents and a table d' hote 
dinner for from fifty cents to one dollar and fifty cents, usually 
with wine included. 

The principal hotels are mentioned by name and located on 
the map of the city included in these pages. 

Having settled upon a hotel you will now proceed to get a 
more definite knowledge of the city than you have hitherto ac- 
quired, and if you are wise you will walk at once to the nearest 
station of the Sixth Avenue branch of the Manhattan Elevated 
Railway. The chances are that it is not more than two or three 
blocks from your hotel. Mounting to the station for ' ' doAvn- 
town trains," on the west side of the street, you pay five cents 
for a ticket, which you deposit in a box at the entrance to the 
platform, and b£)ard the first train labeled "South Ferry" that 
comes along. In no better way than this can you get an idea 
of the people you have come among. The passengers in the 
car where you seat yourself are constantly changing. At each 
station some alight and others get on, and in your twenty min- 
utes' ride the chances are you have had a glimpse of every type 
of New York resident. In this way, too, you are able to gather 
an impression from the car windows of several different and dis- 
tinct sections of the city — the shopping district from Twenty- 
third Street to Fourteenth Street, the French quarter, and the 
old residence quarter, in the neighborhood of Washington 
Square, a glimpse of which, with its marble arch, may be had 
through some of the cross-streets over which you are whirled ; 
the wholesale trade district, that lies just east of the long line 
of piers stretching along the North River ; and then, as the 
road approaches near to Broadway, cheap stores, in front of 



which alkiring bargain signs are hung to catch the unwary 
country visitor who must pass up this way from the ferry, grow 
mar\^elously frequent. The Hne, you find, comes to an end in 
Battery Park, at the southern extremity of the city, where the 
several branches of the elevated road join in a common station. 
Having descended to terra firma in front of an array of ferry-,, 
houses, from which boats connect with Brooklyn, Bay Ridge, 




IX THE JUNIATA VALLEY. 



Staten Island, and Ellis, Liberty, and Governor's Islands, you 
are in what w^as in the old colonial days the most fashionable 
part of the city. AX^est of the ferries is the Barge Office, where 
the Surveyor of the Port has a branch office and the customs 
inspectors their headquarters, and where, during the interv^al 
between the abandonment of Castle Garden and the occupancy 
of Ellis Island, was the depot for the landing of immigrants. 



Here, too, is the United States Marine Hospital, and beyond, 
•situated upon the fine sea wall which stretches around the lower 
edge of Battery Park, and from which a superb view of the 
harbor is obtainable^ is the building known as Castle Garden, 
which has been in turn a fortification, a summer garden, and a 
landing depot for immigrants. 

Bowling Green is only a few blocks away, but between the 
Battery and it, on Whitehall Street, are two structures worthy 
of notice — the United States Army building, where quartermas- 
ters' supplies and the like are stored, and the Produce Exchange, 
a magnificent edifice of granite, brick, terra cotta and iron, which 
cost three and a quarter millions of dollars, and on the floor of 
the main hall of which it is said seven thousand men could com- 
fortably transact business at one time. An elevator will carry 
you to the top of the high tower, from which a bird's-eye view 
of the city can be obtained. 

From Bowling Green you enter Broadway, the main artery 
of the metropolis, and a walk back to your hotel, a distance of 
about three miles, will not only afford you an excellent notion 
of the city, but give you a view of many points of interest as well. 

In the next block, opposite the head of Wall Street, is Old 
Trinity Church, as fine an example of Gothic architecture as is 
to be found in the city, and surrounded by a graveyard that is 
rich in historical interest, some of the headstones dating back 
to the time of the original church building, which was the first 
home of the Church of England in America. The church spire 
is two hundred and eighty-four feet high. 

On Wall Street, the western end of which is at Trinity's door, 
are some of the principal office buildings of the city, an entrance 
to the Stock Exchange, the main fronts of which are on Broad 
and New Streets, the United States Sub-Treasury, and the Cus- 
tom House. The scene within the Stock Exchange, the visitors' 
gallery of which is reached from Wall Street, will well repay a 



visit. From this building telegraph wires run to every part of 
the country, and the financial pulse of the nation is taken at in- 
ter\-als of less than a second. 

In the vaults of the Sub-Treasury, at the corner of Wall and 
Nassau Streets, are deposited millions of dollars of the nation's 
funds, but its interest does not lie so much in this fact as in the ^ 
historic one that it occupies the site of old Federal Hall, on the 
balcony of which Washington took the oath of office as first 
President of the United States, in 1789. A bronze statue of 
Washington taking the oath adorns the steps of the present 
building. 

Adjoining the Sub-Treasury is the United States Assay Office, 
erected in 1823, and the oldest building in the street, where 
bullion and old coin and plate of all descriptions are bought and 
melted into bricks to be used by the mints in coining. 

The Custom House, a block nearer the river on the other side 
of the street, is a building of gray granite, in the Doric style of 
architecture, with portico and high granite columns. As may be 
inferred from the fact that its average receipts in duties collected 
on imports is about $155,000,000 against less than $3,000,000 ex- 
penses, it is enormously profitable to the United States Govern- 
ment. 

The principal building on Broadway between Wall Street and 
the Post-Office is that of the Equitable Life Assurance Society, 
on the east side of the thoroughfare, between Pine and Cedar 
Streets. Through it pass more than thirty thousand people 
daily, and it accommodates something like thirty-five hundred 
tenants. In its tower are the headquarters of the United States 
Signal Service in New York, on two of its upper floors is ac- 
commodated the Lawyers' Club, and on its ground floor and 
in the basement is the Cafe Savarin. 

The Western Union Telegraph Company's building is a short 
distance above the Equitable, on the west side of Broadway, at 



the corner of Dey Street, an inspiring structure, in which are the 
headquarters of the telegraph company named. An idea of the 
company's business may be obtained from the statement that in 
1890 it handled fifty-five million eight hundred and seventy-eight 
thousand seven hundred and sixty-two messages, and that its 
receipts were $22,387,027.91. 

At the corner where Park Row on the east and Vesey Street 
on the west join Broadway are four buildings that merit your 
attention. The New York Herald building, of white marble, on 
your right, old St. Paul's Chapel across the way on your left — 
a chapel of Trinity parish and the only colonial relic among 
the churches of New York ; the Astor House, at one time the 





A VISTA ON THE DELAWARE. 



lO 



principal hotel of the city, and still a good paying property. On 
the northeast corner of Broadway and Vesey Street, and directly 
ahead of you, filling up the triangle formed by Park Row on one 
side, Broadway oh the other, and City Hall Park in the rear, the 
■ gray granite building of the United States Post-Office, with 
its dome modeled after that of the Louvre, pointing skyward 
on the Broadway side. The Post-Office building, in which the 
business done involves the handling on an average of over six 
hundred thousand letters daily and about nine thousand bags 
of newspaper mail, includes also the United States Courts, the 
United States District Attorney's office, and offices used for 
other Federal purposes. 

In the old colonial days City Hall Park, the last vestige of 
which you find north of the Post-Office, but which originally 
included the ground on which the Post- Office is built, was 
used for pubHc celebrations, and five times a year a public 
bonfire was lighted upon it, and food and drink distributed 
at the expense of the town. It is now merely a breathing 
spot in the midst of a breathless field of business. Across its 
green the imposing newspaper structures of Park Row may be 
seen rising heavenward, w^hile in the middle distance the city's 
municipal buildings give the scene a picturesqueness that is to 
be found nowhere else in the city. The City Hall, with its 
marble front and sides, and its cupola capped by a statue of 
justice, contains the offices of several city officials, including 
that of the Mayor. North of the City Hall is the New Court 
House, of white marble, while to the east is the old Hall of 
Records or Register's Office, a relic of the Revolutionary war. 

Mercantile houses of more or less importance now crowd 
Broadway on both sides as you journey northward, and most 
of the places worth seeing are to be found off to the right. 
Leaving Broadway at Houston Street you will find only a few 
steps away on Mulberry Street, midway between Houston and 



II 

Bleecker Streets, the headquarters of the New York poHce, 
and will learn that the force numbers about thirty-five hundred 
men, including one superintendent, four inspectors, and thirty- 
six captains. 

A little farther north another detour will be repaid by a 
\iew of the Astor Library, in Lafayette Place, a few doors 
south of Astor Place, which runs out of the main thoroughfare. 
This is a free reference libra:*}' endowed by the Astor family, 
containing two hundred and sixty-eight thousand books and 
pamphlets, and possessing an estate valued at about S2,oco,- 
Goo. Near here is also the Cooper L'nion, founded by the 
famous American philanthropist, Peter Cooper, and including 
science and art schools for men and women and a free librar\'. 
The Bible House, the home of the American Bible Society, 
which, since its institution in 1816, has distributed over fifty- 
three million Bibles, is situated directly opposite the Cooper 
Institute, in Astor Place, bet^veen Third and Fourth Avenues. 

As you have walked north on Broadway you have noticed 
that your view has been obstructed at a certain point by a 
graceful church edifice of light-gray stone. This is Grace 
Church, and you find that it is adjoined by a parsonage and 
parish house of a similar st}''le of architecture. Its congrega- 
tion is among the wealthiest in New York. 

A few blocks more and you come to Union Square, a park 
covering three and a half acres, which here breaks Broadway 
in two. It is ornamented, as are all the city squares and 
parks, with fountains, shrubber}', flowers, and statuar}'. From 
Union Square to Madison Square is a succession of retail 
houses, forming the other side of the shopping district which 
you saw from the elevated train in your ride southward. Broad- 
way, north of Twenty-third Street, which is itself a great shop- 
ping thoroughfare, is given up for the most part to theatres, 
hotels, and apartment houses. 



12 ' 

Having seen Broadway, or as much of it as is worth your 
while, it will be well for you to devote the rest of your day to 
Fifth A\enue. Entering upon it where it crosses Broadw^ay 
and climbing Murray Hill, the fashionable residence quarter, 
you may continue your stroll to and into Central Park at 
Fifty-ninth Street. In this walk you will see the homes of the 
more important clubs, including the Reform, the Knickerbocker, 
the Calumet, the Manhattan, the New York, and the Union 
League. The Union Club and the Lotus are situated on Fifth 
Avenue, but south of Twenty-third Street, w^hile New York 
Athletic Club is on Sixth Avenue at Fifty-fifth Street. You will 
see, too, the mansions of many of New York's millionaires, 
including those of the Vanderbilts, between Fifty-first and Fifty- 
second Streets ; and St. Patrick's Cathedral, the largest and 
handsomest church building in the United States. 

A drive around Central Park and a visit to the Metropolitan 
Museum of Art situated therein should be considered necessary 
to obtain even a cursory impression of the city. The Park 
comprises eight hundred and forty acres, with nine miles of 
winding drives ; its lakes and ponds cover an area of forty-three 
and one-quarter acres, and it includes among its features of in- 
terest an obelisk presented to the city by the Khedive of Egypt, 
and brought to this country from Alexandria in 1880. A me- 
nagerie, rich in animals of all kinds, takes up ten acres of the 
Park's land. The Metropolitan Museum of Art contains many 
valuable and famous pictures and some costly and rare collec- 
tions of antiquities. 

Thus far you have seen only the bright side of New York. 
A visit to the Bowery, to Chinatown, and to the Italian quarter, 
where may be seen the dark side, cannot fail to interest you if 
you are a student of human nature ; and if, moreover, you care 
to note how a city grows it may be well to take trips on the 
elevated roads to their northern termiyiiy when you will be able 



13 



to form some conception of how New York's million and a 
half of souls are housed, and how more room is being made 
each year for a constantly increasing population. 

Having seen New York, whether well or ill depends upon • 
the time you have devoted to it, you make ready for your nine 
hundred mile journey across the continent to Chicago and the 
Columbian Exposition. The Pennsylvania Railroad's line you 
learn is the safest, the speediest, the most comfortable, and the 

most picturesque, and you choose 
it, as a matter of course. The com- 
pany has two passenger sta- 
tions in New York, one at 
the foot of Desbrosses Street 
for the accommoda- 




tion of passengers like yourself from up-town, and one at the 
foot of Cortlandt Street for the convenience of business men and 
others who are engaged in the lower part of the city. A cab will 
carry you from your hotel to Desbrosses Street Ferry in from fif- 
teen to thirty minutes, and the cabman will expect a dollar for 
doing so. If you have a half hour to spare the Sixth Avenue 
elevated road to Grand Street and from there a cross- town car to 
the ferry will be a cheaper route ; or you may continue on the 
elevated train to Cortlandt Street, from which station the down- 
town ferry is but about three minutes' walk distant. You will 



14 

find the ferr}''-houses roomy and comfortable, while as for the 
ferry-boats that carry you across the North or Hudson River 
to Jersey City, the eastern terminus of the Pennsylvania Rail- 
road, they are veritable floating palaces, large, light, and lux- 
uriously appointed, with an upper saloon and deck from which 
a most excellent view of the river front and shipping of the city 
mav be had. 



THE START FOR THE WEST. 




GREAT high, wide - spreading, graceful arch, 
through the white glass of which the sunlight 
filters down over lines of long, sleek passenger 
cars made up into trains about to start for 
various sections of the country. A half dozen 
surcharged locomotives far away down the vast 
transparent roof inclosure are sending up clouds 
of white steam, the music of which, as it comes 
moaning from the open safety valves, mingles 
Avith the clatter of hurrying baggage trucks, the distant rattle of 
whirling ratchet wheels making fast an arriving ferry-boat, the 
sonorous voices of the conductors in blue uniforms and silver 
buttons standing at the head of the long lanes of platforms and 
directing passengers to their soon-to-be-moving trains, and the 
incessant drone of the overladen newsboys with their daily and 
weekly papers, the latest magazines, the newest novels, and the 
inevitable silk traveling caps. 

You are in the Jersey City station of America's greatest rail- 
road — the Pennsylvania. Behind you, across the river, lies the 
metropolis of the new world^ — New York ; before you, at the 
end of nine hundred miles of glistening steel rails, rises the 
eighth wonder of the world, the city that was built in a day — 
Chicago. A clock above your head tells you that it is fourteen 
minutes past noon, and a time-table in your hand informs you 
that before this hour to-morrow you will have arrived at your 
Mecca, the Exposition that celebrates four centuries of Amer- 
ican development. 

(15) 



17 

"Philadelphia, Pittsburg, Chicago, and the West ! " 

The voice of the conductor of the most sumptuous railway 
train that the mind of man ever conceived — the Pennsylvania 
Limited — rings out clear and sharp above the babel of other 
sounds. A negro porter takes your portmanteau and your rugs, 
and you hurry forward. Your ticket indicates your location for 
the journey. It is in "Car 2," perhaps, "Lower 12," which 
means the middle Pullman sleeping car of the train, and one of 
the lower berths at the rear end ; or it is possible that you 
have secured the drawing-room in this car, which will afford 
you greater privacy, though for that matter a section, including 
an upper and a lower berth, will be all that you require should 
you merely wish a compartment to yourself. Here in "Lower 
12," for instance, the upper berth not having been sold, you 
find that you are quite alone, and that if you feel so inclined 
you may draw the richly embossed velvet curtains which are 
draped from a brass rod above and shut yourself away from 
the eyes of your fellow-passengers. 

Scarcely have you begun to marvel over the luxury of your 
surroundings than, glancing out of the window, you realize that 
the train is moving. So gradually, so smoothly have the wheels 
started upon their twenty-four hours of revolution that you have 
not had the slightest indication until this moment that you have 
passed from under that mammoth roof-span — the greatest in the 
world — and have glided out upon the elevated road-bed that 
carries the tracks of the Pennsylvania Railroad Company over 
the streets of Jersey City and out into the broad stretch of 
meadows beyond. 

The day is very fair. The morning sunshine stealing in 
between the silken window draperies transforms the rich browns 
of the upholstery into a glorious symphony in gold. The brass 
work, brightly polished, glistens in the warm rays, and the 
delicate tints of the ceiling decoration glowing in the light 



i8 



admitted by the double line of ventilators, join in the general 
harmony of color, which is reflected again and again by a 
score or more of dainty mirrors. You have been told that you 

may take luncheon on the 
train, and you wonder 
where. At this moment 
the negro porter looms up 
in the distance, and the 
man who occupies the 
compartment opposite to 
you, you notice, touches 
a button conveniently 
placed in the wall be- 
tween the windows, and 
a bell tinkles somewhere 
far away. You note that 
the porter disappears for 
an instant, only to reap- 
pear ; he has glanced at 
the electrical indicator in 
the brief interim, and now 
he has come straight to 
your neighbor and is 
awaiting his commands. 
You seize the opportuni- 
ty to inquire about your 
luncheon, and learn that 
you can be served in the 
dining car, which is two 
cars forward. 

The inclosed passage-way through which you pass from one 
car to another is the vestibule feature of the train, and you can 
readily realize that not only does it afford entire safety to 




PRIVATE DRAWING-ROOMS EN SUITE. 



19 

passengers, who in the old days were warned against going 
from car to car while trains were in motion, but that it aids 
very materially in preventing that disagreeable rocking from 
side to side which is inevitable without it. The vestibule, too, 
with its strong steel framework is a most effective safeguard 
against any kind of a shock, and as you pass on this dis- 
covery gives to you a sense of security which you do not fail 
to appreciate. 

The car which is between yours and the dining car is sim- 
ilar in e\-ery way to your own ; but as you w^alk through it 
you observe another feature of the train which up to this time 
has escaped you. A mulatto girl in a blue serge frock, white 
apron, and white cap is arranging a pillow for an elderly lady, 
who is evidently an invahd, upon a couch in the drawing-room, 
the door of which stands open, revealing an apartment as 
cosy, comfortable, and beautiful as any bijou boudoir in the 
land. The mulatto girl, the conductor tells you, is the train's 
ladies' maid, and is at the service of all of the women pas- 
sengers. 

There is a sparkle of delicate glassware and polished silver, 
reflecting snowy linen ; a glint of china, frail and transparent as 
an egg shell ; a breath of fresh flowers, and a musical click- 
ing of knives and' forks. White-coated and aproned waiters 
move to and fro with deftly balanced trays of smoking \'iands, 
and when a blue-uniformed oflicer, the conductor of the dining 
car, has ushered you to a seat, one of these waiters places a 
napkin and a menu before you. You give your order, and 
while it is being cooked in the kitchen which occupies a third 
or more of the car, but which is dexterously hidden from 
sight, as you sit facing it, by a sideboard on which there is a 
dazzling array of plate and glassware, you may indulge in 
whatever fruit the season affords, glancing now and then out 
of the broad windows at the countrv throug-h which the train 



20 



is gliding at a speed which, so easily does it move, you can- 
not begin to realize. 

Already you have crossed the meadows where are situated 

the railroad company's repair shops, freight buildings, and coal- 

o-:^-;..- . ., ing platforms ; you have 

. y crossed the Passaic River 

/ four miles from where it 
empties into Newark Bay, 
and are whirling through 
the city of Newark 
itself, the first city 
in point of popula- 
tion and wealth in 
New Jersey. 

Before Elizabeth 
is reached you have 
your luncheon be- 
fore you, but you 
stop eating for a 
moment to look at 
what w^as the first 
English settlement 
in the State, and 
what is now one of 
the chief suburban 
residence places of 
New York. Rah- 
way, another man- 
ufacturing town, 
flashes by, and 
then, just as you have finished eating, and are thinking about 
an after-luncheon cigar, the Raritan River glimmers beneath 
you, and the train dashes into New Brunswick and out again. 




DINING CAR. 



21 



giving you just a peep at the stately old buildings and verdant 
campus of Rutgers College, which was chartered by King 
George III., of England, in 1770 — Queen's College then, of 
course — and of several mills and factories, the roofs of which 
are on a level with the car windows. 

'.' Smoking car, sir I Yes, ^ ^ - 

sir ! Next car forward, sir I " ^ 

If you were suddenly 
set down in your own 
club you could not 
be more snugly en- 
sconced than you are 
in this warm-colored 
room, with its low, 
so ft ly -cushioned 
wicker chairs, its vel- 
vet couch, its writing- 
desks, its book-cases, 
and its square tables 
laden with the morning 
newspapers and the cur- 
rent periodical litera- 
ture. Beyond the cur- 
tained door-way yonder 
is the buffet, with which 
you can communicate by 
m^eans of an electric button 
always at hand, and from which 
you can procure whatever you 
may desire in the way of liquid re- 
freshments or cigars. Beyond this is the barber shop, from 
which entrance is had to the bath-room, and still further forward 
is the baggage-room, where your trunks, checked at your hotel 




SMOKING AND LIBRARY CAR. 



22 

in New York, are being carried along with you, not to be seen 
again until you find them at the Chicago hotel of your choice. 

The train is now making good time through a generally 
level country, watered by streams that flow between pictur- 
esquely wooded banks, and cultivated by well-to-do, energetic 
farmers, who send their produce to both New York and Phila- 
delphia. As the smoke of your cigar curls from your lips and 
clouds for an instant the broad window pane you catch a glimpse 
of a station flying by on your right. It is Princeton Junction, 
and the smoothly-shaven man with glasses who sits near to you, 
and who glances out across the fields with a half-regretful smile 
upon his face, will tell you, if you ask him, that three miles 
away, at the top of yonder ridge, is Princeton College, his alma 
vtater. Princeton College, he will inform you, is ' ' one of the 
foremost institutions of learning in the country, and from it have 
graduated many of America's brightest minds." About old 
Nassau Hall, the main college edifice, clings many historical 
reminiscences. During the Revolutionary war it was occu= 
pied alternately as a barrack and a hospital by both the Brit= 
ish and American forces, and it bears to this day the marks 
made upon its walls by cannon balls during the battle of Prince- 
ton, in 1777. 

The Trenton of to-day is noted principally for its potteries, 
some of the finest art ware manufactured in the United States 
being the product of its skilled artisans. 

The Delaware River is crossed in a flash, and you have 
passed into the rich farming and grazing country of Bucks 
County in Pennsylvania. Fifty-eight miles have now been trav- 
ersed, and a few minutes later you are among what may be con- 
sidered the suburbs of Philadelphia ; Bristol and a succession of 
smaller villages lying along the west bank of the Delaware con- 
taining many residences of Philadelphia business men, who make 
the journey to and from that city daily. Now you begin to 



23 

notice mammoth manufactories, from the tall chimneys of which 
the smoke is pouring, and row after row of small brick houses 
with white shutters and low, white door-steps, and you know- 
by this sign that you are in the outlying districts of the city of 
the Quakers. Street after street you cross at an elevation above 
grade, and then you are once more plunged suddenly into syl- 
van scenes of the most picturesque description. Fairmount Park, 
with its macadamized drives, its hills, and its dales, rises above 
you and then sweeps away to the silver Schuylkill at your feet. 
Oft' to your right, rising above the rich foliage, you see, as the 
train thunders over the bridge which spans the river, the sur- 
viving relics of the World's Fair of 1876 — the white-doomed 
Memorial Hall, which served as an art gallery, and the lower, 
conservatory-like building, that was then, and has been ever 
since, devoted to a horticultural display. The city's zoological 
gardens are on your left as your train sweeps around a long 
curve prior to recrossing the river at a point farther south, and 
gliding into the city proper over an elevated road similar to 
that over which you were carried out of Jersey City. 

The magnificent scenery in which the Pennsylvania's route 
to Chicago is so rich lies for the most part west of Philadel- 
phia. The journey has now really just been commenced, and 
after a brief stop at the Broad Street Station, during which you 
notice that the latest stock and produce quotations have been 
received and posted on a convenient bulletin-board in this cosiest 
of smoking-rooms, you walk through the train to the observa- 
tion car, which is attached to the rear end. 

If you have been pleasantly astonished at the elegant and 
complete comfort of the smoking car and its accessories you are 
sure to be equally amazed at the delicious luxury of the car 
which is designed primarily for the women passengers, but which 
is as much yours as theirs. The rattan furniture, upholstered 
in rich velvets, the soft carpets, the wide and high windows, 



24 



slightly bowed, with their sumptuous draperies, the writing- 
desks, and tables, and book-shelves, similar to those you have 
just left in the smoker, are but incidents. The chief feature of 

the car lies beyond these in the 

extreme rear. At first glance 

J ^ it reminds you of a piazza 

v^ ;^ f^ upon which this beautiful 

room opens out, and a 
piazza from w^hich the 
' view is constantly 
changing. It is 
as broad as the 
car and equally as 
deep. There is 
room upon it for 
a dozen or more 
chairs. Its sides 
are protected by 
the car's sides, 
which extend out 
to meet the ornate 
brass raihng that in- 
closes its end, and the 
car's roof is its cano- 
py. As the train glides 
out once more into the open 
country, through a landscape that 
is probably more like an English land- 
scape than anything to be found elsewhere on the American con- 
tinent, you notice on either hand the picturesque villas and 
manor houses of many of Philadelphia's wealthiest citizens, who 
here make their home the year round ; but from your present 
position you notice something else as well. The road-bed, with 




OBSERVATION CAR. 



25 

its four tracks, stretching away behind this fast-flying hotel of 
yours, is, you see, in the most perfect order. Its heavy steel 
rails, polished bright as mirrors, rest upon evenly-spaced cross- 
ties, imbedded in evenly-broken stone ballast. 

You notice, too, that your train is protected by the block 
signal system, and that no other train is permitted in the block 
between telegraph stations on which you are running until you 
have passed out of it and into the next beyond, and you are 
thus assured that to be overtaken and run into by a train which 
follows is a simple impossibility. 

"A wonderful road," remarks your next neighbor; "the 
only road in America which combines the three essentials of 
perfect travel — safety, speed, and cojnfort. The company not 
only employs these block signals, which you must have ob- 
served, but the interlocking switch, which is another safe- 
guard, and the air-brake, which, you know, places the speed 
of the train entirely in the hands of the engineman, who, from 
his position in the cab of the locomotive, is best fitted to look 
after it. In fact, not a single point has been overlooked by 
the Pennsylvania Railroad Company in securing to its patrons 
absolute safety. Accidents to its passenger trains are ahiiost 
unknown. 

"In the matter of speed," your neighbor continues, "the 
company is constantly making improvements. Years ago it in- 
troduced these track tanks," and as he speaks you see beneath 
you, between the tracks over which you are flying, a long, nar- 
row pan of w^ater. "The locomotive," he goes on, "takes up 
water from these as it goes, without materially slacking r;.eed. 
The heavy rails and the perfect road-bed are other adjuncts 
valuable in this direction ; as are also the company's stone 
bridges. Of late the line of road, too, has been very consid- 
erably straightened. Curves have been taken out and heavy 
grades lessened. The Pennsylvania, you see, considers speed 



26 

an essential, but always secondary to safety. As for the com- 
fort it secures its patrons I need not speak. The train you are 
(Ml now is without a peer on the globe. You have here not 
merely comfort, but luxury. In no hotel in the country can 
you hnd more conveniences." 

The idea strikes you, possibly, that you would like to write 
a letter to catch to-morrow morning's European mail. You 
had not time before leaving, perhaps. You would like to write, 
you say, but you fear the motion of the car, gentle and almost 
imperceptible as it is, would make your chirography totally 
indecipherable. 

Your neighbor smiles and asks you if you failed to notice 
the young man seated before a desk in the little compartment 
at the other end of this car. And then you learn that he is 
a stenographer and typewriter, and that w^hat you dictate he 
will put into plainly printed characters for you, and that he 
will post it at the next stopping-place, whence it will go by 
fast mail back to New York, and leave to-morrow morning on 
the outgoing steamer. 

Meanwhile you have passed through Delaw^are and Chester 
Counties in Pennsylvania, with their suburban homes and hotels, 
and are speeding across Lancaster County, which comprises 
some of the most fertile farming land and the best kept farms 
in the State. The general surface of this county is an undu- 
lating plain, broken by a few abrupt elevations, and the picture 
presented to your view from the car window is for the most 
part one of vari-colored patches, produced by the well-culti- 
vated fields. Here you may notice the tobacco plant growing 
in rank abundance, for the cultivation and manufacture of this 
weed into cigars is one of Lancaster County's chief sources of 
revenue. The city of Lancaster, where Robert Fulton, the in- 
ventor of the steamboat, w^as reared and educated, looms up 
to your right, but the line of road only skirts it, and a glimpse 



28 

of its church spires and the chimneys of its cotton mills and 
breweries is all that you are afforded. 

Presently the Susquehanna River is discovered on your left, 
flowing placidly between low-lying banks, and just as the hands 
of your watch approach the hour of five the train rolls smoothly 
into the station at Harrisburg, the capital of the Keystone State. 
To the north is the Lebanon Valley, embracing an enormous 
area of highly-cultivated territory, abounding in iron ore and 
dotted with manufactories, while to the south lies the Cumber- 
land \'alley, second to no region in America of the same 
extent in picturesqueness, fertility, and mineral wealth, and in- 
cluding one of the show places of the United States, the Battle- 
field of Gettysburg, where, in 1863, took place the most stirring 
and momentous engagement of the war between the North and 
the South. 

Once out of the Harrisburg Station and on the road again 
you have spread out before you an uninterrupted perspective 
of sparkling waters, verdant islands, rolling hills, and sloping- 
woodland. 

Five miles farther on and you have reached the Kittatinny 
Mountains, the first of the great Allegheny range, and bending 
abruptly to the west your train thunders over the Susquehanna 
River on a bridge thirty-six hundred and seventy feet in length. 
To your right rise gigantic ridges sundered by the waters in 
their passage, but leaving numerous rocks in the channel to 
break the river into rapids and fret it into foam, while to your 
left the stream sweeps away, with its wooded islands, towards 
Plarrisburg, which you have left behind, but the steeples and 
domes of which are still in view. 

The pictures that are presented to your view in rapid suc- 
cession are alternately magnificent in their wild grandeur and 
poetically idyllic in their quiet beauty. Leaving the Susque- 
hanna, the road now follows the beautiful blue Juniata in its 



29 

course through the mountains and valleys, until its sources are 
reached amid the great Alleghenies. The miniature river, pick- 
ing a path for itself through the outlying mountains, has appar- 
ently overcome the obstacles in its way by strategy as well as 
power. At many places it has dashed boldly against the wall 
before it and torn it asunder, while at others you find it tor- 
tuously winding around the obstruction and creeping stealthily 
through secret valleys and secluded glens. So your train, fly- 
ing along by . its side, now passes through broad, cultivated val- 
leys, and a moment later plunges into a ravine so narrow^ that 
the road-bed is but a ledge of overhanging rock. Here a 
mountain spur is tunneled through, and farther on, so tortu- 
ous becomes the stream, that you find yourself crossing and re- 
crossing it in your flight westw^ard. 

Mifflin, with its memories of Indian wars ; Lewistown, near 
the site of which once dwelt the famous Mingo chief, Logan ; 
Mount Union, at the entrance to Jack's Narrows, a wild and 
rugged gorge ; Mill Creek and its sand quarries ; Huntingdon 
and Tyrone are passed in turn, and now you are approaching 
Altoona, where are located the celebrated shops of the Penn- 
sylvania Railroad Company. 

A brief stop is made at the Altoona Station, and then, with 
all steam on, the giant locomotive at the head of your train be- 
gins the ascent of the heaviest grade on the line. The valley 
beside you sinks lower and lower, until it becomes a vast gorge, 
the bottom of which is hidden by impenetrable gloom. Far in 
the depths cottages appear for a moment, only to disappear in 
the darkness, and then you begin the circuit of the world-fam- 
ous Horse-shoe Curve, the most stupendous piece of engineer- 
ing ever accomplished ; the wonder and admiration of travelers 
from the four corners of the globe ; the one feature of Ameri- 
can railroad construction that you have been told required the 
utmost courage to attempt and the most miraculous skill to 



30 

achieve. And now, as the enormous bend, sweeping first north 
then cur\'ing' westward, and still curving aw^ay to the south again, 
presents itself to your view, you confess that you did not be- 
gin to estimate its grandeur. An eagle soars majestically away 
from some crag above }^our head and floats with extended wings 
o\-er the gulch that makes your brain reel as you glance down- 
ward, so deep is it. The clouds into which you are climbing 
bend low and hide the rugged top of the mountain to whose 





ON THE SUMMIT OF, THE ALLEGHENIES. 

beetling side you are clinging, forming a whitish-gray , canopy 
that extends half way across the dizzy chasm. It is all so large, 
so grand, so majestic, that you admit that your imagination has 
been unequal to the task of picturing it. 

Your train is dwarfed by its surroundings until it seems but 
a mere toy moving at snail's pace around this tremendous loop 
of shining metal threads. Across the chasm another train, whose 



31 

lights, as it glides through the shadow, give it the semblance of 
a flight of fire-flies, appears to be racing with your own. In 
reality it is approaching you, and as you whirl around the 
northern end of the horse-shoe at the head of the valley it goes 
thandering by, and a new race now begins with an exchange of 
sides. 

The clouds which have dipped into the gorge roll majesti- 
cally away at this moment, and far below you, trailing in and 
out, you descry a tiny stream of water, the winding course of 
which is suddenly lost to sight among the mountains which bar 
your view. It is a tributary of the Juniata, and its waters 
eventually find their way into Chesapeake Bay ; while across 
the mountain, along whose rugged breast you are now climb- 
ing in search of an opening westward, babbles another rivulet 
that empties itself into the Conemaugh, and thus from river to 
river until it reaches the mighty Mississippi, and finally the Gulf 
of Mexico. In a word, you are about to cross the great divid- 
ing range of the continent, and at a height of something like 
two thousand feet above the level of the Atlantic. 

At Allegrippus the grandeur of the m.ountains seems to cul- 
minate. Gazing to the east, range after range rises into view, 
each fainter of outline than the other, until the last fades into 
the azure of the horizon. Now the valleys begin gradually to 
rise again, the mountains sink down, and you find yourself upon 
what appears to be a rugged plain where industry has found a 
place for furnaces, mills, and mines, and over which many homes 
are dotted. As you go through the train to the dining car, 
where, in the glow of numerous electric lights, dinner is being 
served, the train dashes into a tunnel, and the mountain range 
is pierced. 

Blazing fires showing through a succession of furnace doors, 
so close to the track that you can almost feel the breath of the 
flames as you speed past, tell you that you are now in the heart 



32 

oi the coke-burnino- country and the region where bituminous 
coal is mined in abundance. As the brightness of the furnace 
fires grows dim in the distance, Cresson, the most popular sum- 
mer resort in Western Pennsylvania, flashes by. 

If on your journey west, or your return journey east, you care 
to get an idea of a typical American mountain resort, you will 
find in Cresson a most excellent example. Situated as it is on 




the very crest of one of the AUeghenies, in the heart of this glo- 
rious mountain scenery, with the Horse-shoe Curve only a few 
miles away, the location, in point of beauty and healthfulness, 
is unsurpassed. The grounds of the hotel — an imposing struct- 
ure, which, with its cottages, has accommodations for a thou- 
sand guests — cover an area of over five hundred acres, the 
greater part of which is a beautifully-graded lawn garnished 
with flower-beds and shrubbery and plentifully dotted with 



33 

trees. The house itself is both capacious and comfortable, its 
sleeping"- rooms are large and airy, its dining halls and parlors 
attractive in decoration and furnishing, and its cuisine equal to 
that of any summer hotel in America. Here, too, are to be 
found mineral springs of unquestioned efficacy, and every facil- 
ity for enjoyment, from a livery stable to tennis courts. 

Half an hour later the conductor tells you that you are in 
the neighborhood of Johnstown, the ill-fated borough that was 
swept almost entirely out of existence a few years ago by the 
giving way of a poorly-constructed dam, w^hich allowed the 
Conemaugh River to surge over the town in a devastating- 
flood, causing the loss of several thousand lives and the de- 
struction of millions of dollars worth of property. 

As you pass into the smoking-room once more for another 
cigar, the apartment, under the radiance of the electric lights, 
seems to have taken on a cheerier aspect even than during the 
day. Your fellow-passengers, under the influence of a most 
excellent dinner, have grown less reserved. A game of whist 
is in progress in one of the compartments between the smoking- 
room proper and the buffet beyond. Three or four men are 
discussing together the market prospects, taking their text from 
the closing prices of the day ; others are reading, and others 
still, with their heads close to the windows, are drinking in the 
beauty of the mountain scenery, which is silvered by the pale 
light of the moon ; and in this manner you yourself get an idea 
of the Pack-saddle narrows of the Conemaugh, the winding 
river below, and the wooded heights above. 

An hour later your attention is attracted by towering columns 
of flame forming weird and fantastic arabesques against the night, 
and a communicative passenger tells you that the train has now 
reached the natural gas country. Village after village, illumi- 
nated by this means, is passed through, and then in the distance 
you descry the glimmering lights of Pittsburg. Your watch 



34 

informs you that it is half-past eleven when the train, on time 
to the minute, runs into the Union Depot in that city, which 
is the western terminus of the Pennsylvania Railroad proper, 
and you are puzzled /or a moment to see by your time-table 
that you will leave for Chicago at 10.40. It is here that the 
Standard time changes. Heretofore you have reckoned your 
day by Eastern time ; beyond Pittsburg you will reckon it by 
what is called Central time, which is an hour slower. 

Here the dining car, which has served its purpose for the 
day, is taken off, and during the process you seize the oppor- 
tunity to alight and indulge in a brisk w^alk up and down the 
station platform. From the depot you can get but a poor idea 
of the city. On your left rises a high hill, upon the top of 
which an electric light appears like a star in the black vault of 
the heavens, while on your right you see nothing but a suc- 
cession of railroad tracks. 

In point of fact, however, Pittsburg is a manufacturing city 
of no mean importance, and not only that, but a handsome 
city as weli. Its natural beauties have been enhanced by pub- 
lic and private improvements. No more healthy city can be 
found in America, and in some of the essentials of comfort it 
has no rival. Natural gas is abundant, and is suppHed at low 
rates for heating and cooking in private houses, as well as for 
manufacturing. Charitable, educational, and reformatory in- 
stitutions abound, and its public edifices are numerous and im- 
posing. 

Soon after leaving Pittsburg you return to your sleeping car 
to find that the compartment allotted to you has been trans- 
formed into a most comfortable berth, hung with tapestry cur- 
tains. The linen is white and delicate, the pillows soft, and the 
coverings ample. The lights have been lowered, and when at 
last you decide to retire for the night, you confess that you 
are as well provided for as you could be under the roof of 



35 




A T ANIENT IN THE FOOT-HILLS. 



either hotel or private residence. Sleep quickly responds to 
your wooing ; and while you slumber your train glides smoothly 
over the tracks of the Pennsylvania's Western lines, across the 
State of Ohio, stopping at Alliance, CrestHne, and Lima ; and 
then into Indiana, where, just as the rising sun begins to tint 
the East with the first flush of a new day, another halt is made 
at Fort Wayne. 

When you first open your eyes the flat country of the Hoosier 
State spreads itself out for miles before you, and you turn over 
for another nap, from which you are awakened by the voice of 
one of the dining car waiters, who is making known the fact to 
the sleeping passengers that breakfast is served. The car has 
been taken on at Fort Wayne, and when, having bathed in the 
bath-room, been shaved deftly by the barber, and finished your 
toilet in a lavatory, elaborately fitted up with basins of silver, 



36 

you sock the breakfast-room, it is to discover a duplicate of the 
car that was left behind at Pittsburg the evening before. 

Soon after you have finished your morning meal a line of 
dazzling, greenish blue suddenly shows itself off to the right. 
It is Lake Michigan, and already you are in the suburbs of 
Chicago. Railroad tracks innumerable spread themselves on 
either side of you ; small stations at which local trains are stand- 
ing, or from which they are just departing, flash by ; build- 
ings, ranging in size from modest cottages to mammoth ware- 
houses, come and go ; and a man in uniform comes through the 
car asking you to w^hich hotel you wish to go, and how many 
trunks you have to be sent. He is the agent of an omnibus 
line and a local express company, and for a nominal sum will 
send both yourself and your luggage to your chosen destina- 
tion. You hurry away to gather up your traps in the sleeping 
car, and just as you have your portmanteau strapped and your 
rugs rolled, the train ghdes into the depot at Chicago, and comes 
to a standstill — its journey over. 



A BRIEF SKETCH OF THE TRAINS. 




HICAGO has been reached in the foregoing pages 
by means of the Pennsylvania Limited, and 
while this is the greatest it is by no means 
the only train Avhich the matchless facilities 
of the Pennsylvania Railroad oifer to the 
traveler. Another train, almost as perfect 
in appointment as the Limited, is the Co- 
lumbian Express. This train, named in 
honor of the Great Fair, was added to the 
service as a reUef to the Limited, on account of the increased 
trafhc incident to the Exposition. It is composed of Pullman 
vestibule sleeping cars, dining cars, smoking cars, and passenger 
coaches, all constructed especially for this train. These cars are 
painted in the standard cardinal color of the Pennsylvania Rail- 
road, and with their black and gold trimmings present a most 
attractive appearance to the eye. Liside they are finished in 
quiet colors, and furnished with all the comforts of cars of the 
highest class. The dining cars are available for all meals, so 
that every passenger, even though one should not choose to 
secure accommodations in the sleeping car, may take every 
meal en route without leaving the train. 

The Columbian Express leaves New York in the morning, 
traverses the State of New Jersey and all of Eastern Penn- 
sylvania before the curtain of night descends to shut out the 
scenery. The traveler will revel during the entire day in the 
charming picturesqueness of Eastern and Central Pennsylvania. 

(37) 



38 

You will catch a glimpse first of the manufacturing resources of 
tlie land of Penn, as exemplified in the great mills of Philadel- 
phia, then the magnificent agricultural section of the Chester, 
Lancaster, and Susquehanna Valleys will engage your attention. 
Bevond Harrisburg the panoramic beauty of the Juniata Valley 
will present a succession of pictures that will fill the afternoon. 
The Horse-shoe Curve will be rounded in all the splendor of 
the lengthening shadows, and the descent of the mountains 
toward the west wall be made as twilight steals on. The lights 
of Pittsburg will glimmer in the early darkness, and soon after 
leaving that point you will retire, to awaken the next morning 
in Indiana. A glance at Plymouth, Ind., will be caught as you 
sit at breakfast, and in two hours more the shores of Lake 
Michigan will be visible, and the interminable maize of rail- 
road tracks that cover the surface of suburban Chicago will 
cause you to marvel how an engineman can guide his flying 
steed in safety through such a puzzling confusion of switches. 
A little more than twenty five hours have elapsed since you 
left New York, when you disembark amid the bustle of the 
great Chicago Station. 

Should the fancy seize you to leave New York in the after- 
noon, instead of the morning, the St. Louis, Chicago and Cin- 
cinnati Express will meet your requirements. This train leaves 
after the luncheon hour, and runs through the State of New 
Jersey and the eastern portion of Pennsylvania by daylight. It 
is a very w^ell-equipped train of Pullman vestibule sleeping 
cars and a dining car. At Pittsburg it takes the lower, or Pan 
Handle, route, and from that point runs a little to the south- 
west, directly across the State of Ohio. Just before the train 
reaches Columbus, the capital of the Buckeye State, the sleep- 
ing passengers are aw^akened by the announcement that break- 
fast will be served at the excellent restaurant connected with the 
station at that point. Breakfast over, the course is turned to 



the northvrest, and the forenoon is passed in traversing the 
prosperous and populous section of Central Ohio. At the little 
town of Union the boundary line of Indiana is crossed, and 
the traveler sees a number of typical Indiana towns before 




IX THE NAT 



dinner. Avhich is eaten at Logansport. The afternoon is spent 
on the iiat lands. As the sun begins to decline in the west 
the city of Chicago looms up in the distance, and the trip is 
over. 

It may happen that you will select a still later train from 
Xew York, one leaving- towards six o'clock, and in that case 



40 

the Western Express will be your choice. This train is ex- 
ceedingly popular with business men, for the reason that it 
leaves the Eastern metropolis after all the work of the day is 
ended. It is as comfortable in its equipment as the Columbian 
Express, since it is composed of Pullman vestibule sleeping 
cars and dining cars. Its westward flight begins in the night, 
and the first light of day breaks through the window of your 
berth in Western Pennsylvania, near Pittsburg. You get a 
dissolving view of the great Iron City and its twin sister, Alle- 
gheny, the two separated by the Allegheny River ; you bisect 
the great State of Ohio, with its diversified industries clearly 
manifested in the country and towns which mark the line, and 
in the waning afternoon you cross the boundary line and enter 
Indiana. After twilight you glide across the corner of Ilhnois, 
and stop in Chicago as the chimes on the station tower is tell- 
ing the hour — 9.30 of the evening. 

The real night train for Chicago, however, leaves New York 
at eight o'clock in the evening. There is no lack of comfort- 
able accommodation on this, which is known as the Pacific Ex- 
press. This is in some respects the most notable train of the 
ser^dce^ It is distinctively the scenic train of the line, as it 
reaches the mountains in the morning and crosses the Alle- 
ghenies when the skies are lighted with the radiance of the ris- 
ing sun and the air is redolent with the freshness of a new day. 
The act of awakening amid such scenes is at first startling in 
its effects, but the breath of the mountains and the grandeur of 
the scenery in the full flush of early sunlight is full recompense 
for the loss of an hour or so of slumber. By this train break- 
fast is taken at Altoona, the mountain workshop of the Penn- 
sylvania Railroad, and after an excellent meal at the Logan 
House the train proceeds. An observation car is here attached, 
and an additional locomotive to aid in overcoming the steep 
grade. 



41 

Within a few moments the Horse-shoe Curve is sighted, and 
a thrill of admiration, which expands into a feehng of wonder 
and deHght, takes possession of every one who looks upon the 
scenes of wild beauty which are presented on every hand. It 
is a magnificent spectacle, and one which will cling to the mem- 
ory forever. 

The entire western portion of the State of Pennsylvania, with 
its fiery coke ovens, smoking furnaces, and flaming gas-wells, 
will be traversed by daylight, as well as the eastern portion of 
the State of Ohio as far as Mansfield. Then nieht comes on 





apace, and the traveler will retire on the train to awaken, in the 
early morning at his destination — the city of the World's Fair. 
Assuming that you have traveled direct from New York to 
Chicago by any one of the trains described, it would be an ex- 
cellent idea to \'ary the return trip by a visit to the National 
Capital. This may be accomplished in the most satisfactory 
manner by taking at Chicago any one of the celebrated trains 
of the Pennsylvania System. These trains leave Chicago at dif- 
ferent hours during the day, and carry cars through to Wash- 
ington as well as to New York. The route is the same as 



42 

west-bound from Chicago to Harrisburg, Pa. There the Hues 
diverge, and the \\^ashington portion of the train is separated 
from the Xew York section and is forwarded to the National 
Capital over another branch of the Pennsylvania System. The 
line to W^ashington shortly after leaving Harrisburg is carried 
o\'er the Susquehanna by a substantial viaduct, and follows the 
banks of die picturesque stream for many miles. It also trav- 
erses one of the most attractive and productive agricultural sec- 
tions of the Union, wherein green hills and flowery meadows 
serve to diversify the landscape. York, one of the oldest and 
thriftiest towns in the State, devoted largely to manufacturing 
enterprises, is the principal city passed, and shortly after it van- 
ishes in the distance the boundary of the State of Maryland is 
crossed. A beautiful stretch of country spreads out from both 
sides of the railway, until the train enters the prosperous com- 
mercial city of Baltimore. One may well break the journey 
here, if one cares to see the most interesting city of the upper 
South, a description of which follows in later pages. 

Leaving the Union Station at Baltimore the train proceeds 
under the city, through a succession of tunnels, out into a flat 
and uninteresting country for an hour's ride until the white 
^dome of— the Capitol is outlined against the horizon, and you 
recognize the fact that the capital of the United States has 
been reached. _ 

Returning to New York from Washington still another por- 
tion of the Pennsylvania System offers its superior facilities. 
Trains leave for Philadelphia and New York at almost every 
hour of the day, and among them are some of the bfest examples 
of the most .completely- equipped fast trains of this great railway. 

In describing the route to Chicago it has been assumed that 
the traveler would go direct from New^ York to the World's 
Fair City and visit the other cities as he leisurely returns to the 
East. This is by no means necessary, and the reverse order 




JACK S NARROWS ON THE CONEMAUGH. 



44 

may as well be followed. The Chicago ticket will admit of a 
break in the journey at any one of the points mentioned, and 
the tra\'eler may use his own discretion in stopping either as 
he goes west or on the eastward trip. 

The Pennsylvania Railroad Company maintains in the Penn- 
sylvania Railroad Exhibit Building a Bureau of Information, to 
which all visitors are invited. Complete information concerning 
trains and all matters of interest to the traveler will be cheerfully 
given by courteous attendants. 

In the following pages descriptive notes of the principal cities 
en route between New York and Chicago are given. 

The descriptive notes, brief as they are, will doubtless serve 
to whet the curiosity, and at the same time help the traveler to 
see all the points of interest in each city to the best advantage. 



u? 




PHILADELPHIA. 



PHILADELPHIA. 




ENTRALLY located in the very heart of the 
great Quaker City in the midst of its most 
notable architectural section, there is no 
handsomer nor better-appointed railroad 
station in America than the Broad Street 
Station of the Pennsylvania Railroad 
Company at Philadelphia, into which you 
are whirled over an elevated road-bed 
that extends from beyond the Schuylkill River, 
the western boundary of the city proper, a mile and a half 
away. Constructed of granite, ornamental brick, and terra 
cotta in a picturesque combination of the Gothic, Greek, and 
Roman styles of architecture, its general beauty is enhanced 
by the two lofty towers, one rising from its northeastern and 
the other in process of construction on its southeastern corner. 
As you come down its broad sweep of stone steps and out 
upon North Broad Street, a mammoth pile of white marble 
rises up across the way, dwarfing the station with which it is 
in most pronounced contrast, and like a mighty fortress seem- 
ing to challenge your entrance to the city of the Quakers. It 
is the new City Hall, and admittedly the largest public build- 
ing in the United States, not even excepting the Capitol build- 
ing at Washington. Situated at the intersection of tw^o of Phila- 
delphia's widest and most important thoroughfares. Broad Street 
and Market Street, it may be said to mark the centre of the 
city proper, both geographically and in point of population. It 
has been in course of construction since 1871, and it is still by 

(45) 



46 




,-^^ 



no means near completion. It co\-ers an area of four and one- 
half acres, not including the court-}'ard, two luuidred feet square, 
which is in its centre, nor the grand avenue, two hundred and 
five feet wide on the northern front and one hundred and thirty- 
five feet wide on the others, which surrounds 
it. It contains hxe hundred and twenty rooms, 
and accommodates not onlv the municipal 
ofiices, but the chambers of the Supreme 
Court of Pennsylvania. The tower, which 
rises from the middle of its northern side, 
'\'ill when completed, reach a height of five 
hundred and thirty-seven feet, 
terminating in a colossal stat- 
i ue of William Penn, the 
founder of the citv. 
Chestnut Street, on 
or near which the 
principal hotels are 
situated, is a block 
and a half to vour right 
as you make your exit 
Irom the station, and a Penn- 
sylvania Railroad hansom, a 
number ( )f \\ hich are always in wait- 
mg in the court to your left as you 
descend to the street. Avill for fiftv cents 
take you to any hotel within a mile that 
you may select, all of which are noted on 
the map of the city. The points of interest in Philadelphia-from 
a purely historical standpoint are nearly all to be found between 
the new City Hall and the Delaware River, which bounds the 
city on the east, but Philadelphia is geographically the largest 
city in the Union, as well as the third city in population, with 




ClTV HALL, PHILADHLPHLA. 



47 



its one million forty-six thousand of inhabitants, and its land- 
marks, 'public institutions, and other objects of interest to the 
visitor are of necessity somcAvhat widely scat- 
tered. Historically, Philadelphia is the most 
important of American cities. Here it was 
that the first gathering of representatives 
from the American Colonies was held, in 
1774 ; here it was that the Sec- 
ond Continental Congress de- 
clared the Colonies' indepen- 
dence, and here it was that 
the original seat of govern- 
ment of the United ^ ^ 
States M'as estab- 
lished. A walk of 
a few blocks down / 
Chestnut Street ^" 
from your hotel, 
past the principal 
shops, newspaper 
offices, and mone- 
tar}^ institutions of 
the city, will bring 
you to the old State 
House, now called In- 
dependence Hall, where- ^ . 
in the Declaration of Inde- 
pendence was signed. The 
building occupies the middle of 
the block between Fifth and Sixth 
Streets, and it is flanked on either 
sides by smaller red brick structures, in the same general quaint- 
ly plain style of architecture, and which are used as offices, 




INDEPENDENXE HALL, 



48 

court-rooms, and halls of record by the city government. Within 
the southern vestibule of Independence Hall and beneath the 
tower in which it originally hung, is the home of the old bell 
which proclaimed liberty to the American people. The historic 
bell now forms a part of the Pennsylvania State exhibit at the 
Fair. In the museum which occupies one of the rooms on the 
ground floor are to be seen many relics of Revolutionary days. 
In the room opposite are portraits of the signers of the Decla- 
ration, the table upon which the instrument was signed, and 
other furniture which had a place in the halls of Congress at 
that time. The upper rooms are used as the City Council 
chambers pending the remo^'al of that body to the new City 
Hall. In the rear is Independence Square. 

Carpenters' Hall stands back from Chestnut Street t^vo blocks 
farther east, in the rear of an ornate banking building, and 
is reached through a narrow court-way. In architecture it is 
similar to the State House, but much smaller, and presents its 
gable end to the street. Here the first Continental Congress 
assembled, and here, as an inscription on the wall will tell you, 
' ' Henry, Hancock, and Adams inspired the delegates of the 
Colonies with ner^'e and sinew for the toils of war." It was 
built in 1770, and was first intended only for the uses of the 
Society of Carpenters, by whom it was founded. Its interior 
has been restored to as nearly as possible its original revolu- 
tionar}' aspect, and its walls are hung with relics of that period. 

Christ Church, where in colonial days the royal officers at- 
tended divine worship, and where, after the Revolutionar\' war, 
the President and other ofiicers of the United States had pews, 
is three blocks northeast from Carpenters' Hall, on Second 
Street above Market. Like the buildings already mentioned, it 
is of red brick, and was built in 1727-31 on the site of the orig- 
inal church erected in 1695. Its steeple contains a chime of 
bells cast in London about the middle of the last centun.'. 



49 

Another old church well worth inspection Hes about a mile 
to the south and just off Second Street. It is known as the Old 
Swedes' Church, and was built in 1700 by the Scandinavian set- 
tlers to take the place of a log structure erected in 1677, f^^^ 
years before the landing of Penn, which ser^^ed as both a place 
of worship and a fort. The old grave-yard which surrounds it 
is particularly interesting. St. Peter's Church, at Third and 
Pine Streets, and the Pine Street Presbyterian Church, at Fourth 
and Pine Streets, are ecclesiastical structures that likewise date 
back to colonial times. 

On your way back to your hotel you may pass the Penn- 
sylvania Hospital building, which occupies, with its grounds, 
the entire block bounded by Eighth and Ninth and Spruce and 
Pine Streets, and which is one of the finest examples of colo- 
nial architecture still in existence. Built in 1755, the first clin- 
ical lectures given in America were delivered within its walls. 

Returning to Chestnut Street there are two or three objects 
of interest that have thus far escaped you. It is possible that 
in going from the State House to Carpenters' Hall you have 
noticed a marble structure just east of Fifth Street resembling 
the Parthenon at Athens, and have learned that, originally erect- 
ed for the Second United States Bank in 1819-1824, it is now 
occupied by the Collector of Customs for the Port of Philadel- 
phia and the Assistant Treasurer of the United States. You 
have, too, in all probability, observed the Drexel Building ad- 
joining it and extending to the corner of Fifth Street, in which 
the Philadelphia Stock Exchange has its quarters ; but you 
have not yet had pointed out to you the mammoth gray stone 
building at the corner of Ninth Street, popularly called the 
Post Office, but which contains also the United States Court 
Rooms, and branch offices of the Coast Survey, Geological 
Survey, the Light-House Board, and of the Secret and Signal 
Service of the Government. Including the site, the building 



50 

cost nearly SS, 000,000. The United States Mint is about four 
blocks farther west, and is a most interesting place to visit. 

Having strolled from one end of Chestnut Street to the other, 
a ride south on Broad Street as far as the Ridgway Library 
would reward you with a view of one of Philadelphia's most 
imposing edifices, a branch of the Philadelphia Library (a free 



.Xi 
















NEW BROAD STREET STATION, PENNSYLVANIA RAILROAD. 

institution that dates back to the time of Franklin), and the out- 
come of a legacy of more than a milhon dollars left by Dr. John 
Rush, who, with his wife, after whom it is named, lies buried 
within its walls. 

North Broad Street would also well repay a visit. Beyond 
the new City Hall is the Masonic Temple, a granite structure 



51 

of large dimensions and ornamental design. The somewhat or- 
nate home of the Pennsylvania Academy of Fine Arts, with one 
of the finest picture galleries in the country and a most admir- 
able art school, occupies a corner one block farther north. In 
the next block is the Hahnemann Medical College and Hos- 
pital, and then Broad Street is, for a time, given up to man- 
ufactories, including, among others, the Baldwin Locomotive 
Works. A few squares north of this begins the residence part 
of the street, where many of the most beautiful dwellings in the 
city are located. 

About a mile to the west, leaving Broad Street at Girard 
Avenue, you will find Girard College, with its forty acres of 
land, and its several more or less picturesque buildings. This 
is an educational institution for orphan boys, founded and en- 
dowed by the late Stephen Girard. 

Philadelphia's chief educational institution — the University of 
Pennsylvania — is situated west of the Schuylkill River, in what 
is known as West Philadelphia. Its buildings are large and its 
grounds ample. It was first chartered in 1753, and the growth 
in value since that time of the land that forms its endowment 
has rendered possible its elevation to its present proud position. 
Of its schools, which include almost every department of edu- 
cation, the most celebrated is that of medicine, which ranks 
with the best in the world. 

On your way to the University, at Chestnut and Thirty- 
third Streets, you will observe the handsome new building of 
the Drexel Institute. It was constructed and endowed by the 
munificence of the eminent banker, Mr. A. J. Drexel, and its 
object is the training of the young of both sexes in the paths 
of industry and art. It is a magnificent charity. The museum 
contains many rare objects, and its library many books and 
manuscripts'^ I that [cannot be found elsewhere. 

Philadelphia's clubs, like its other institutions, are pretty 



52 

well scattered over its broad surface, but its principal ones are 
within a short distance of Broad and Walnut Streets. Here 
are the Philadelphia Club, the oldest and most exclusive ; the 
Union League, the wealthiest ; the Art, the University, the 
Rittenhouse, and the Manufacturers'. 

In Fairmount Park Philadelphia possesses one of the largest 
and most beautiful public pleasure-grounds in the world. Ex- 
tending for seven miles along both sides of the Schuylkill River 
and six miles along Wissahickon Creek, it is rich in natural 
scenery of a most picturesque description. Its Zoological Gar- 
dens are the finest in America, and it contains in its relics of 
the Centennial Exposition of 1876 some highly attractive feat- 
ures. Among the private residences of colonial days that are 
within its borders are Mount Pleasant, once the home of Ben- 
edict Arnold, and Belmont Mansion, where Judge Peters enter- 
tained Washington and Lafayette. The brick house that Will- 
iam Penn built for himself near Second and Market Streets has 
been removed to the Park, and is an interesting landmark on 
one of its principal drives. 

Days might be spent with profit among the numerous man- 
ufacturing establishments of Philadelphia, for it is a manufact- 
uring city primarily ; and it possesses also numerous educational, 
charitable, religious, and other institutions that wall yield a good 
return for the time devoted to their inspection. 



BALTIMORE. 




HE stranger in Baltimore, remembering that 
^ he is visiting "the Monumental City," not 
unnaturally expects to find imposing mon- 
uments at every street corner, and is 
disappointed when he learns that in this 
respect Baltimore is by no means so rich 
as some other cities of the United States. 
The title of Monumental City was given 
to the municipality, not so much because 
of the number or grandeur of its memorials, but more by rea- 
son of the fact that it was the first of the American cities to 
commemorate the services of the hero of the colonial struggle 
for independence, by erecting to George Washington a fitting 
monumental tribute. As you approach the centre of the city 
coming down Charles Street from the Union Station where you 
have been landed, this tall, graceful, white marble Doric column, 
crowned with a well-modeled figure of Washington, by Causisi, 
rises before you, and once you have reached it, situated as it is 
in the centre of a spacious square, you find yourself in a locality 
that is not only the very heart of the Maryland metropolis in 
point of situation, but a locality that is thoroughly characteristic 
of the city. In after years it will probably be this picture, above 
all others, that a simple mention of the name of Baltimore will 
conjure up. All about you are residences that by reason of their 
quiet elegance, rather than any ornately pretentious architecture, 
tell you they are the homes of Baltimore's most conservative, re- 
fined, and wealthy citizens. Mount Vernon Place especially, with 

(53) 



54 

its plats oi green sward, its flowers, its trees, its fountains, and its 
statuary, is a most attractive spot. On one corner is the Mount 
\'ernon Methodist Episcopal Church, one of the finest church 
edifices in the city, and opposite to this is the Peabody Institute, 
founded by George Peabody, an American banker in London, 
who hiid the foundations of his enormous fortune in Baltimore be- 
tween the years 1815 and 1836, comprising a library of nearly 




COTTAGE AVENUE, CRESSON SPRINGS, PA. 

one hundred thousand volumes, a gallery of art rich in antique 
casts, modern marbles and bronzes, and paintings by celebrated 
American artists, and a conservatory of music, all of which are 
free. It is very appropriately termed the ''University of the 
People." 

Before proceeding to an inspection of the city, it might be 
well for you to climb the winding staircase that mounts the in- 
terior of the Washington Monument, and thus get a general idea 
of the topography of Baltimore with its harbor and adjacent coun- 
try. Descending, you may begin your survey by delving into the 
business section of the town, and accordingly you continue your 



55 

way down Charles Street to Lexington, passing as you go the 
oldest church in the city — St. Paul's — which, in its architecture, 
will remind you strongly of some sanctuary or other that you 
have run across in the purlieus of some antiquated Italian city. 

At Lexington Street you turn to your left, and descending 
the hill soon find yourself among the national and municipal gov- 
ernment buildings of the city. Grouped together here, within a 
small radius, you will see the old court-houses, a series of vener- 
able structures surrounded by grass plats and situated on the 
block bounded by Calvert, St. Paul, and Lexington Streets, and 
Court House Lane, the new court building where the sheriff has 
his office, the Post-office occupying the greater part of the block 
bounded by Fayette, Lexington, Calvert, and North Streets, built 
of Maine granite in the Renaissance style, and a little farther on 
the beautiful white marble building of the City Hall, covering an 
area of thirty thousand five hundred and fifty-two feet and erected 
at a cost of over two millions and a quarter of dollars. 

In this neighborhood, too, are the larger office buildings, in- 
cluding that of the Equitable Life Assurance Society of New 
York with more than one hundred and fifty rooms, and the Law 
Building with its numerous office suites and its seventh-floor res- 
taurant. 

Passing down Calvert Street you discover in front of the Post- 
office, in what is known as Monument Square, Battle Monument, 
a memorial second only in importance to the Washington Monu- 
ment, and erected in grateful recollection of the citizens of Balti- 
more who lost their lives at the Battle of North Point, when, on 
September 12th, 1841, the British, under General Ross, were de- 
feated at the mouth of the Patapsco River, fourteen miles from the 
city. The memorial consists of a shaft in the shape of a fasces, 
symbolical of the union, ornamented at the bottom and on the 
east and west fronts with bas-reliefs, and surmounted by a figure 
symbolical of the city of Baltimore. 



56 

On reaching' Baltimore Street, which is one of if not the prin- 
cipal business street of the city, you turn to your left, and passing 
the offices of the principal newspapers turn to your right at Hol- 
liday Street and find yourself approaching the Board of Trade, 
while a walk of a block or two farther to the southeast will bring 
you to the Custom House. 

A monument that bears a sentimental and poetic interest is 
that which marks the tomb of Edgar Allen Poe, one of the most 
gifted of American poets, and which has a prominent place in the 
church-yard of the Westminster Presbyterian Church at the cor- 
ner of Green and Fayette Streets, distant only a few blocks to 
the west. 

A day could very well be devoted to Baltimore's chief pride — 
the Johns Hopkins University, the Enoch Pratt Free Library, the 
Cathedral, and the Maryland Historical Society. The University 
buildings, from an architectural standpoint, are not, as a rule, 
prepossessing, and one might pass them by without in any way 
realizing that within them are the means of an education such as 
none of the more famous colleges of the country could excel. 

The Enoch Pratt Free Library, founded by a Baltimore com- 
mission merchant of that name, you discover is a Romanesque 
building of marble, on Mulberry Street near Cathedral, and rich 
in works on all subjects. It has five branches situated in differ- 
ent parts of the city. At the corner of the two streets named 
you observe a massive granite structure of Grecian architecture, 
with Ionic columns supporting the central portico, and surmounted 
by a dome of magnificent proportions. It is the Roman Catho- 
lic Cathedral and one of the grandest church edifices in the city. 

A priceless collection of manuscripts, documentary records, 
volumes, and pamphlets you examine with some interest at the 
Maryland Historical Society's rooms on Saratoga Street near 
Charles, and you find not a little pleasure in the paintings and 
curios which form one of the finest collections of ancient art in 



58 

the I'nited States. Another art gallery well worth a visit is that of 
Mr. William T. Walters, at No. 5 Mount Vernon Place, where 
his very rich private collection is open to the public on certain 
days during three months of the year. It is possible, too, that 
you inspect the Johns Hopkins Hospital, one of the best housed 
and appointed institutions of the kind in America, and the Wom- 
an's College, which, with the adjacent structure of the First 
Methodist Episcopal Church, making up a most pleasing archi- 
tectural group, must not be omitted from your sight-seeing tour. 
In the outlying sections of the city you also find much to 
instruct and amuse you. Druid Hill Park, though not large, 
abounds in many natural beauties and is likewise richly adorned 
with statuary and other monuments. Patterson Park is notable 
for its conservatories, and Federal Park for the magnificent view 
of Baltimore obtainable from its elevated plateau. 



^J^ 




WASHINGTON. 



WASHINGTON. 




^^ ASHINGTON, peculiarly unlike any other Amer- 
ican city, is also in striking dissimilarity to the 
other national capitals of the world. It was 
created for the sole purpose of being the seat 
of Government, and is consequently in marked 
contrast with those European capitals which were 
chosen as such because of their pre-eminence in 
point of population and commerce. Major L' Enfant, 
a French engineer, prepared the topographical plan 
of the city under the direction of President Washington and 
Thomas Jefferson, who was then Secretary of State, and took 
as his basis for the design the topography of Versailles, the seat 
of government of France ; introducing the scheme of broad 
transverse avenues intersecting the main streets of the city, 
with constantly recurring squares, circles, and triangular reser- 
vations, which you will find at this day forming the main feat- 
ures of the city plan. The aggregate length of the streets and 
avenues is two hundred and sixty-four miles, and they are wider 
than those of any other city in the world. There are twenty- 
one avenues in all, which bear the names of various States in 
the Union, and along one of these, Pennsylvania Avenue, the 
principal street of Washington, one hundred and sixty feet in 
width, and extending from the Capitol to the Treasury Depart- 
ment, you are almost certain to be driven on y@ur way from 
the station to your hotel, which you will probably select from 
among the group located in the neighborhood of the White 
House, or Executive Mansion, and the Treasury Department. 

(59) 



6o 

The principal show-place in Washington is the Capitol, the 
dome of which you have already seen from a distance, and a 
long-range view of which you have perhaps caught as you turned 
into Pennsylvania Avenue. A street car of the Washington and 
Georgetown line, or a Herdic coach, on either of which the fare 
is hve cents, lands you at the western front of this building, and 
as you mount the grand stairway and architectural terrace, and 
walk around the Capitol to the east, you for the first time appre- 
ciate the colossal proportions of this council hall of the Nation's 
law-makers, and are quite prepared to be told that it is seven 
hundred and fifty-one feet long by three hundred and twenty- 
four feet broad ; that it covers an area of three and a half acres, 
and that its dome rises three hundred and ninety-seven feet 
above low tide in the Potomac ; nor are you, as you gaze upon 
the graceful proportions of its white marble walls and pillars, 
surprised to learn that it has secured the almost unanimous 
praise of the best judges of all countries as the most impressive 
modern edifice in the world. You examine with some care the 
statuary which adorns the portico, and the great bronze doors 
by Randolph Rogers, representing, in alto-relievo, events in the 
life of Columbus and the discovery of America, and then you 
pass into the rotunda, which forms the central attraction of the 
Capitol, and which consists of a circular hall, ninety-six feet in 
diameter by one hundred and eighty feet in height to the can- 
opy above, in which is painted a mammoth fresco by Brumidi, 
representing allegorical and historical subjects. Paintings of 
scenes from the history of the nation also adorn the eight 
panels of the surrounding wall. 

Passing from the rotunda by the west door you reach the 
Library of Congress, which, with its six hundred and fifty thou- 
sand volumes and three hundred thousand pamphlets, is the 
largest library in the United States, and the fifth largest in the 
world. From the rotunda you may also enter the room of 



6i 

the Supreme Court, with its marble busts of the Chief Justices 
of the United States, and from here also rises the stairway that 
leads to the dome, from which, if you care to climb to it, a pano- 
rama of unexampled beauty may be witnessed. Statuary Hall, 
on the other side of the rotunda, contains a collection of stat- 
ues of the prominent soldiers, jurists, and statesmen of each 
State. 

In the north wing of the Capitol is the Senate Chamber, the 
niches in the galleries of which are embellished with marble busts 
of the Vice-Presidents. In this wing also are the President's 
room, the Vice-President's room, the Marble Room^ or Senators' 
reception-room, and the several Senate committee-rooms. In 
the south wing is the Hall of Representatives, surrounded by the 
Speaker's room, the House library, and the House committee- 
rooms. The grand stairways, leading from the several stories of 
the building, all bear striking decorations, while the walls and 
ceilings of the corridors, as well as of nearly every room, are 
celebrated for the frescoes with which they are illuminated. 

In leaving the Capitol you pass out of the western door and, 
descending the grand stairway, with its w^ealth of sculptured 
adornment, take the board walk to the right leading to the 
Botanic Gardens, where you find in the conservatories some 
rare examples of the flora of the tropics. 

The Executive Mansion, the home of the President of the 
United States, commonly spoken of as the White House, lies 
at the other end of Pennsylvania Avenue, between the Treas- 
ury building and that of the War, State, and Navy Depart- 
ments. It is a plain, stately structure of freestone, painted 
white, with a colonnade of eight simple Ionic columns in front 
and a semi-circular portico in the rear, and surrounded by 
grounds which are given the semblance of a park by means of 
an array of fountains, flowers, and shrubbery. The East Room 
is the one room in the house that is open to visitors — a large, 



62 



lotty apartment, decorated in the Greek style. Upon its walls 
are the portraits of Washington, Jefferson, Lincoln, and Mrs. 
Washington. The other rooms on the ground floor— the Blue 
Room, Green Room, and State dining-rooms, you find closed 
to you unless you have special permission to visit them. On the 
upper floor are the President's office ^ and those of his Secre- 
taries, together with the apartments of 
the Presidential family. 




PKNNS\LVAMA RAILROAD STATION, 
WASHINGTON, D. C. 



From the rear windows of the White House a view is had 
of the Washington Obelisk, or national monument. It is the 
loftiest construction of masonry in the world, the shaft of Mary- 
land marble rising to a height of five hundred and fifty-five feet. 

The mighty pile of granite, iron, and slate which you notice 
on your left as you leave the White House consists of four 
harmonious buildings, united by connecting wings, and contains 



63 

the offices of the War, Navy, and State Departments. It cov- 
ers four and one-half acres ; its corridors combined are over 
two miles in length, and its total cost was nearly $11,000,000. 

The Department of State, which is in the south wing, you 
visit first, taking the elevator to the Library on the third floor, 
where you are shown the original draft of the Declaration of 
Independence, the desk upon w^hich it was written, and the 
original engrossed and signed copy, a case of historic relics, 
and other objects of interest. The fifty thousand volumes in 
the Library, including the works of the great writers of all 
ages on international affairs, statutes, and State papers, treat- 
ies, leagues, manifestos, and correspondence, make the finest 
collection of the kind in the world, and form a spoke of invin- 
cible strength in the great wheel of State. Here, in the room 
set apart for commissions and pardons, you see the great seal 
of the Union, and in rooms adjoining and above are found the 
archives of the nation. The diplomatic reception-room is on 
the floor below, as are also the diplomatic ante-room and the 
office of the Secretary of State. 

In the east wing of the building is the Navy Department, 
the office of the Secretary of the Navy occupying a position 
opposite the central stair-cases, which are themselves a beauti- 
ful feature of the interior, extending from the basement to the 
attic. In the corridor you find some superb models of the 
modern war ships of the United States, and ascending to the 
fourth floor you visit the Department Library. Other features 
of this wing are the Hydrographic Office, with its chart printing 
press, the largest in the United States, and the office of the 
Nautical Almanac. 

The magnificent suite of apartments of the Secretary of War 
is on the second floor of the west wing, and your visit thereto 
is repaid by a view of a collection of portraits of the secretaries 
and distinguished generals. 



64 

At the northeast corner of Seventeenth Street and Pennsyl- 
vania Avenue you step in at the Corcoran Art Gallery, which, 
though not a public institution in the sense of being" under the 
patronage of the Government, is one of Washington's most in- 
teresting institutions. In its galleries you view an admirable 
collection of paintings and sculpture, one bit of statuary, Powd- 
ers' ''Greek slave," being in itself worth the visit. 

In Passing Lafayette Park, on your way to the Treasury 
Building, you halt for a moment to view the statue of Lafay- 
ette and his compatriots, Count de Rochambeau and Chevalier 
Duportaie, of the French army, and Counts D'Estaing and De 
Grasse, of the French navy, the work of Antoine Falquiere and 
Antonin Mercie, and erected in 1890 in pursuance of an order 
of Congress ; and then, finding that the Department of Justice 
and the Court of Claims are on your route, you visit both of 
these. 

The enormous building of the Treasury Department has four 
fronts, the western of which, facing the city, represents the older 
part of the structure, and is of Virginia freestone, while the other 
three, built subsequent, are of Maine granite, the monolithic col- 
umns of which, on the south front, are among the largest in the 
world. On entering the building you pass into the cash-room, 
where all cash disbursements in payment of drafts on the Treas- 
ury are made, and at the eastern end of which there is a cash 
vault for current moneys of the United States, containing some- 
thing like $40,000,000 at a time. In the basement is the redemp- 
tion division, where women are engaged in counting, canceling, 
and destroying notes that have been sent to the Treasury for 
redemption. In the sub-basement, under the northern court, 
are the gold and silver vaults. In the office of the Supervising 
Architect, also in this building, you see the drawings and plans 
of the public buildings erected in the United States, while on the 
third floor in the quarters of the Secret Service Division of the 



65 



Treasury, you come upon not only a collection of photographs 
of counterfeiters, but a collection of implements used by them 
as well. The Secretary of the Treasury has his offices on the 
second floor. 

You now proceed to get a view of the south front of the White 
House by strolling into the President's grounds, where, if it be 
after half-past five of a Saturday afternoon, you find the Marine 
Band'playing on the lawn. You find, too, on the other side of 
B Street the United States Fish- ^ ^,^^^ ~ij ^ 

Ponds, where carp and other fish 
are propagated ; you get a ^^^ 
better notion of the colossal 



m 





SOUTH FRONT OV IHK WHITK HOUSE. 



proportions of the Washing- 
ton Obelisk than you did from 
the windows of the East Room ; 
and you see the forcing houses and 

nurseries where trees, shrubs, flowers, and foliage plants are 
propagated by the Government for the ornamentation of its 
public parks and reservations. 

In this vicinity you discover are the Bureau of Engraving and 
Printing, where you see the process of manufacture of paper 
money and bonds ; the Department of Agriculture, with its 
building, its grounds, and its conservatories, in each of which 
you find something to interest you ; the Smithsonian Institution 
and National Museum, with their specimens of birds, beasts, 
fishes, pottery, ceramics, and textiles ; the Army Medical 



66 

Museum and Library, in which are exhibits of medical si^pHes, 
two hundred thousand books on medical subjects and wax models 
showing wounds and diseases ; and the building of the Fish 
Commission with its illustrations of fish hatching and its aqua- 
rium. 

The department buildings yet to be seen are those of the 
Interior Department — the Patent Office and the Pension Office — 
and that of the Post-Office Department. These are located near 
together, north of Pennsylvania Avenue, and about midway be- 
tween the Treasury Department and the Capitol. The great 
granite, freestone, and marble edifice you see covering two 
blocks between Seventh and Ninth Streets and F and G Streets 
is the Patent Office, and you revel for hours in its museum of 
models, which includes every machine or device ever patented 
in the United States, numbering in all about two hundred thou- 
sand. In its superb halls you also find many objects of historic 
interest, including the original printing press used by Benjamin 
Franklin. 

Across the street from the Patent Office, on the south, is the 
General Post- Office, in which the Postmaster-General has his 
offices, and on the third floor of which you find some most 
curiously addressed envelopes and other writings in the Dead 
Letter Office Museum. 

The Pension Office, a few blocks to the east, is the newest 
of all the public buildings of Washington, and is in strong con- 
trast with the others in point of simplicity as well as in the 
materials used in its construction, being built of brick, terra 
cotta, and iron. In this the ball on the occasion of the inaugu- 
ration of a President is held, and it possesses in its grand court 
ample accommodation for such a gathering. In its many rooms 
the business of the Pension Bureau is conducted. 

Among the other show-places of the national capital, each 
and all of which will well repay a visit, are the Naval Observa- 



67 



tory at the foot of Twenty-fourth Street, on the banks of the 
Potomac, where is one of the largest telescopes in the world ; 
the Army Barracks, at the foot of Four and One-half Street, 
historically interesting because here stands the old Penitentiary, 
made famous by the prominent part it played in the trials fol- 
lowing the assassination of President Lincoln ; the Navy Yard 
and Gun Foundry, which is the chief place in the country for 
the manufacture of naval supplies, and where you find an inter- 
esting museum of naval relics ; the Marine Barracks, where, in 
the armory, concerts are given by the Marine Band ; the Con- 
gressional Cemetery, where are buried severalCongressmen of the 
early century, two Vice-Presidents — Gerry and Clinton — and gen- 
erals, admirals, and others of national renown ; the United States 
Jail, where Guiteau, the assassin of President Garfield, was con- 
fined and eventually hanged ; 
and the Government Printing 
Office, wherein are printed the 
Congressional Record and the 
thousand and one reports, 
schedules, speeches, and other 
papers that are deemed worthy 
of duplication and circulation. 
Should you stop in Wash- 
ington long enough you will 
devote several days to excur- 
sions into the suburbs. You 
will visit Oak Hill Cemetery in 
Georgetown, or West Wash- 
ington, which is one of the 
most beautiful cities of the 
dead in the country ; you will go out to ArHngton, on the 
Virginia shore of the Potomac, which affords an excellent ex- 
ample of the homestead of an old Virginia family, where you 



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THE MANSION, .MOUNT \ ERNON. 



68 

will see the graves of sixteen thousand soldiers who fell in 
the struggle between the North and the South ; and you will 
take a drive through the most fashionable residence portion of 
the city and suburbs to the great Falls of the Potomac, where 
the city reservoir is located, and on which you will see some 
of the most picturesque scenery around Washington. Mount 
X'ernon, the home of Washington, which remains in all its 
appointments just as it was w^hen occupied by the Father of 
his Country, must also be visited, as must the Soldiers' Home 
aud the National Cemetery, with its fifty-four hundred and 
twenty-four graves of soldiers and its granite memorial chapel, 
in which are the remains of General John A. Logan. 



CHICAGO. 




JUMBLE of vehicles, a murmur of many 
sounds swelling into a roar, an all-pervad- 
ing odor of bituminous smoke, a street 
corner with an iron canopy stretching high 
above your head across the sidewalk and 
a row of picturesque buildings opposite. 
Some one reaches forward for the red ticket 
with its little punched out holes that you 
have in your hand : a voice says : ' ' This 
way, sir I " the open door of an omnibus appears before you, 
and then you find that you have taken the only vacant seat 
inside, that the door has closed with a slam, that the horses, 
answering promptly to the snapping of the driver's long whip, 
have wheeled sharply to the left, and that your conveyance is 
picking its way through the riot of wagons, carts, trucks, cabs, 
and street cars. Away you go over a narrow iron bridge that 
is swung across an almost equally narrow stream, and a man 
on your right tells you that you are crossing the Chicago 
River, which divides the city into its several sections, and 
which constitutes an essential part of the city's harbor. Then 
you plunge into a canon between huge mountains of stone — 
a succession of stre& overshadowed by mammoth buildings ; 
streets over whose gray, grimy pavements surges the tide of the 
city's commerce ; past the front of the Board of Trade, through 
the wide doors of which men and boys are swarming as bees 
swarm in and out of a hive ; down this thoroughfare and across 
that ; by great piles of building material out of which new 



(69) 



70 

spindling structures are mounting to the smoke- veiled heavens ; 
beside low tumble-down shanties that you fancy must have been 
built just after the fire of twenty years ago, and that appear not 
to have been touched since ; and then a sudden flash of Hght, 
a luminous sky reflected by and melting into a broad expanse 
of blue-green waters, cold as steel, and you have emerged upon 
the lake front and are rolling along a white, well sprinkled, and 
therefore dustless, boulevard, the verdant sw^ard of the lake park 
on one side and one marvel of architectural beauty after another 
on the other. 

You hear the city called the eighth wonder of the world, 
and spoken of as having been built in a day, because its growth 
has been more rapid than Jack's beanstalk. As compared with 
the cities of the East, 'Chicago is a mere infant in arms, but such 
an infant ! Though not incorporated until 1837, when its pop- 
ulation numbered only forty-one hundred and seventy souls, and 
its area was but ten or eleven square miles, it has in the inter- 
vening period, in spite of disasters that would have discouraged 
nine hundred and ninety-nine cities of a thousand, grown until 
by the last census it w^as shown to be the second city in the 
Union and the sixth in the world, wdth one million ninety- eight 
thousand five hundred and seventy-six people within its one 
hundred and eighty-two square miles of territory. 

In the great fire of 1871 $200,000,000 worth of property w^as 
sw^ept away by the flames. The fire burned for two days and 
more, sweeping over sixty-five acres every hour, and eating up 
seven and a half millions every sixty minutes, and yet there is 
not a Chicagoan living who will not say that the fire was a 
blessing in disguise. From the ruins of that conflagration rose 
the Chicago of to-day. Since 1876 fifty-seven thousand build- 
ings have been erected at a cost of $256,000,000, and with a 
street frontage of two hundred and fifty-six miles ; Chicago has 
a park system now that is one of the most magnificent in the 



72 

world, embracing nineteen hundred and seventy-five acres ; her 
boulevards and drives are unequaled in America ; her com- 
merce amounts to over a billion and a quarter dollars per an- 
num ; every year she handles fi:-om $200,000,000 to $300,000,- 
000 worth of live stock ; Chicago is the greatest railroad centre 
in the world — twenty-six independent lines entering the city ; 
$190,000,000 are invested in manufacturing establishments, which 
employ one hundred and seventy-seven thousand hands, to whom 
$96,000,000 is paid in wages, and whose products reach a value 
of $528,000,000 ; and the city is, moreover, the greatest mari- 
time port in the United States, the daily arrivals and clearances 
of vessels exceeding those of New York by nearly fifty per cent. 

A train of cable- cars, four long, glides by you with a whir- 
ring sound and goes speeding up the long, wide, straight ave- 
nue ; another train of equal length, coming the other way, 
whirls around a curve at the corner on which you are stand- 
ing, halts for a second to let off a passenger, and disappears 
down the cross street ; a policeman motions you and the other 
waiting pedestrians forward, and, raising his baton threateningly, 
keeps back an all-too-eager expressman who would have run 
you down without a single compunction of conscience ; a han- 
som cab dashes by at the officer's back ; a messenger boy, with 
a cigarette between his lips, stops you midway betwixt cable 
track and curbstone to request a light from your cigar ; a fakir, 
endeavoring to sell a patent shoe blacking to a crowd, is telling 
ancient jokes in order to gain attention ; and three newsboys 
are fighting over one customer who has signified his intention 
to buy a newspaper. 

You have spent the morning in the streets of Chicago. You 
have walked up one and down the next, through this and along 
that, until the high buildings have become familiar and the dime 
museums, with their host of pictures decorating their fronts, 
have begun to seem like old friends. You have seen the Chi- 



73 

cago business man, pushing, rushing, and driving as though he 
had this day only in which to put his affairs in order prior' to 
departure for another sphere ; you have seen him on his way 
to his office an hour or two after daw^n, you have watched him 
as he hurries through his hmcheon at mid-day, and you have 
found him in too much haste to return to his labors to direct 
you to the City Hall, scarcely a block away. You have seen 
the Chicago woman in her street garb, looking much like other 
American women, sav^ perhaps a little larger and a trifle more 
florid in her style than her Eastern sisters, and you have seen 
the Chicago crowd, restless, nervous, and surging. 

You have found the City Hall yourself at last, and now you 
are at one of its four corners and are taking in at a glance the 
grandeur of its architectural bulk and detail. It is, you dis- 
cover, a dual structure that occupies this entire block bounded 
by Clark, La Salle, Washington, and Randolph Streets, not only 
the City Hall, but the County Court-House as well. Its style is 
that of the modern French renaissance, and its material partly 
Upper Silurian limestone from Illinois quarries and partly — its 
columns, pilasters, and medals — of Maine granite. 

It is the successor to the old court-house which stood on 
the same site in the centre of a beautiful green park ; and which 
on that fatal Sunday night in October, 1871, while its bell was 
still clanging out the dread alarm, took fire from a piece of 
burning timber, carried by the strong wind for miles, and was 
totally destroyed. The present building was begun in 1877, 
upon the ruins of the old one, and was completed five years 
later, the total cost being something like $5,000,000. 

You enter from the Washington Street side the tunnel-like 
corridor that extends through the entire length of the basement, 
peep in for a moment at the Health Department, pay a brief 
visit to the City Detective office, where is located the so-called 
'' sw^eat-box," where criminals or suspected criminals are subject 



74 

to the " pumping " process before they are regularly committed, 
and get an idea of the Chicago police force from the Central 
District station, and a notion of the fire alarm system in the 
offices devoted to that department of the municipal service. On 
the first floor, to which vou ascend, you find the offices of the 




IN LEWISTOWN NARROWS, 



Department of Public Works, police headquarters, and the 
offices of the mayor of the city. Here, too, the city's finances 
are kept in order, while on the floor above are found the rooms 
of the municipal law department and the Board of Education 
offices. The council chamber, in which the city's sixty-eight 
aldermen meet and legislate for the people, is on the fourth 



75 

floor, and there, also, is the pubHc Ubrary, with its one hundred 
and sixty thousand volumes, and its reading-room, which is 
patronized by about seven hundred thousand people annually. 

In the Court-House you are of course chiefly interested in 
the courts, where you get an impression of American justice as 
administered in Chicago ; but you take time to visit the offices 
of the sheriff and the coroner, both of whom, being county 
officers, here have their apartments. 

La Salle Street, upon which you emerge, is the money street 
of the city. All about you are banking institutions, brokerage 
offices, insurance companies, real estate agencies. A block to 
the south, as you walk in the direction of the Board of Trade, 
which seemingly bars the street at its southern extremity, you 
pass on one corner the Union Building, which includes among 
its numerous tenants the Western Union Telegraph Company, 
several banks, and the office of the Western Associated Press ; 
and on the other, the enormous Chamber of Commerce Build- 
ing, which in many respects is the finest commercial structure 
in the world and one of the largest oflice buildings in the 
country ; and from now on one high building after another 
towers up around you, and you know by instinct that you are 
in the heart of Chicago. This central business section is one 
mile square, and is bounded by the lake on one side, the river 
on two others and a tremendous system of railways on the fourth. 
These boundaries, of course, cannot be put back, and if the 
heart of Chicago is to expand it must expand upward. Into 
this space every one who has a business desires to get, and 
these sky-scraping office buildings are the result. It has been 
suggested that this entire area should be covered with just such 
buildings as you see around you — buildings from ten to twenty 
stories in height — and that the streets should be double-decked 
to afford those doing business or having business in the region 
a mode of ingress and egress. A simple calculation, however, 



76 ^ 

based on the several buildings of this class already in exist- 
ence, has shown that if such a plan were to be carried out the 
number of people employed in the area named would be some- 
thing like a million and a half, and that even with the pro- 
posed double-decked streets their coming and going would be 
an utter impossibility. As it is, betw^een half-past five and 
half-past six o'clock of an evening the streets in this part of 
the city are so thronged with the occupants of the big build- 
ings that locomotion is of necessity both slow and laborious. 

The Chamber of Commerce Building is divided into five 
hundred offices ; there are an equal number in the Tacoma 
Building, which mounts to a height that is dizzy to contem- 
plate from the corner of La Salle and Madison Streets ; and the 
Rookery, the most magnificent of all the great office structures, 
exceeds each of these in accommodations by over one hundred 
rooms. 

''The Rookery," by the w^ay, which you examine with some 
care, as being typical of the class of buildings you have found 
dominant in the neighborhood, was erected at a cost of a million 
and a half of dollars, exclusive of the ground, which belongs to 
the city, on the site occupied after the fire by the temporary 
municipal building, a frame structure hastily put up, w^hich im- 
mediately began to fall to pieces, and which was given the name 
of " Rookery" out of contempt for its poor construction, and the 
crowding necessitated by the inadequacy of its dimensions. The 
present building has been built and finished in the most expen- 
sive fashion throughout. Twelve stories in height, its two lower 
stories are formed by massive squares of gray granite, whose 
heavy appearance is somewhat neutralized by the large columns 
of polished red granite. From the second story up the building 
is of fire-proof brick and iron. 

Near by the Rand-McNally Building, the Insurance Ex- 
change, Mailer's Building, the Gaff Building, the Counselman 



77 



Building, and several other great structures, mounting upward 
for from ten to twelve stories, and directly before you, as you 
turn southward once more, is the gray granite building of the 
Board of Trade, with its swarm of human bees, its graceful 
tower, and its remarkable weather vane — a lake schooner fif- 
teen feet in length, with rigging in proportion. 





Now you climb to the tower and get a bird's-eye view of 
the city and Lake Michigan, and descending to the street again 
turn to your right past the Grand Pacific Hotel and visit the 
Post- Office and Custom- House, which occupy what is locally 
called the Government Building, a huge structure built on the 
square bounded by Dearborn, Clark, Adams, and Jackson 
Streets. 

It is not impossible that you have an invitation to dine at 
the Union League Club, the smoke-begrimed walls of whose 



78 

building' are now in view across the street. In such an event 
you secure an excellent notion of club life in Chicago, for the 
reason that the club mentioned is the great general commer- 
cial and professional club of the city. It has an active mem- 
bership of twelve hundred, its revenue is large, and with regard 
to interior fittings, furnishing, and decorations it possesses the 
most elegant house in the Western metropolis. You are served 
with an excellent dinner, and then prior to a proposed visit to 
some one of the theatres, you inspect the Club Library and 
Art Gallery, and depart w^ell satisfied that the Chicago man 
understands the advantages of club comforts as well as business 
conveniences. 

Among the other prominent clubs of Chicago, you are told, 
are the Chicago Club, the Illinois Club, the Iroquois Club, the 
University Club, the Marquette Club, the Standard Club, the 
Calumet Club, the Union Club, and the Press Club. 

To make a selection of a theatre in which to spend the even- 
ing is not difficult, since Ch'cago possesses in the Auditorium 
one of the most spacious and beautiful play-houses in the world. 
In point of fact it surpasses any theatre in this or any other* 
country in four essential particulars — equipment for stage pur- 
poses, interior decorative work, acoustic properties, and the con- 
venience and comfort of its audiences. 

Entering from Congress Street you pass through a grand ves- 
tibule, wath ticket offices on each side, to a mosaic- paved lobby, 
beneath a low-vaulted ceiling pillared by shapely columns and 
jetted with electric lights. On your right are several large cloak- 
rooms, while on your left a broad marble stair- case, protected by 
solid bronze balusters, rises to the foyer. Once wnthin the Au- 
ditorium your eyes are greeted with the soft radiance of a 
harmony in yellow. Walls, ceilings, pillars, and balconies have 
all been treated in beautiful gradations of the same color, and 
the whole glows richly beautiful beneath the brilliance of over 



•79 

five thousand electric lights. You count forty boxes hung with 
delicately tinted plush curtains, and an usher vouchsafes the in- 
formation that the seating capacity of the house is four thousand 
and fifty. 

The entire Auditorium structure, which fronts on three streets 
—Michigan Avenue, Congress Street, and Wabash Avenue — 
includes, beside the theatre in which you are seated, a hotel 
with four hundred guest-rooms, a business portion with one 
hundred and thirty-six offices and store-rooms, a recital hall 
capable of seating five hundred people, and a tower two hun- 
dred and twenty-five feet high. Its total cost was $2,000,000, 
and its weight is one hundred and ten thousand tons. 

Among the many other excellent theatres in Chicago, sev- 
eral of which you have passed in your stroll about town during 
the day, are Hooley's Theatre, where high-class comedy is the 
rule ; the Chicago Opera House, where burlesque is a specialty, 
and the Grand Opera House, where comic opera usually reigns, 
which face the City Hall from three different sides ; and in the 
same neighborhood is McVicker's Theatre, on Madison Street, 
one of the most beautiful play-houses in the United States. 

The play over you may get an admirable notion of the society 
element of Chicago by stopping in for supper at the Auditorium, 
the Richelieu, or the WellingLon, but if you prefer to visit a 
characteristically Chicago restaurant where well-to-do citizens 
and their wives eat oysters and drink beer at adjoining tables 
with variety actors and actresses and other Bohemians, you take 
a cab to Rector's, at the corner of Monroe and Clark Streets, 
and descend into that enormous basement with its floors of 
marble, its walls of white glazed brick, and its many flashing 
mirrors. 

The shops of Chicago you will see, of course, by daylight, and 
with this object in view you devote yourself for a morning to a 
stroll north on State Street, which is the longest thoroughfare 



( 



X 



8o 

in the city, and back again to your starting point by way of 
Clark Street, which, because it penetrates the north division of 
the city, is regarded as the great north and south artery. 

In the shopping district the principal points of interest are 
the ' ' Leiter ' ' building, extending from Congress Street to Van 
Buren Street ; the ' ' Fair ' ' building, at the corner of State and 
Adams Streets ; and the ' ' Leader, ' ' on the opposite side of 
Adams Street. 

At State and Madison Streets you have dry-goods houses 
on all sides of you. The great dry-goods house of America, 
however, is that of Marshall, Field & Co., the retail branch of 
which you discover at the next corner, extending over one half 
a square. As for the firm's wholesale department it is some- 
thing like half a mile away, occupying a whole block, built of 
granite and sandstone. 

If you continue your stroll three blocks farther, passing the 
Central Music Hall Building, in which is located the College of 
Music, and the magnificent Masonic Temple, with its twenty 
stories, you will reach South Water Street with its tangle of 
wagons, its piles of fruit boxes and chicken crates, and its 
pyramids of barrels — in other words, the fruit, vegetable, and 
poultry market of the city. 

You return to your starting place by way of Clark Street, 
which lies two blocks to the west. For the first few squares 
you remark a great number of drinking saloons, which are to 
be accounted for by the fact that the City Hall is not far away. 
Here, too, are cheap restaurants and a variety theatre, and then 
the Sherman House, a hotel on the corner of Randolph Street, 
facing the Municipal and County Building, looms up. In the 
next block is the Chicago Rialto, the stamping ground of actors 
out of engagements, several railroad ticket offices, more bar- 
rooms, and a little farther south, in the old days, there was to 
be found the dominion of King Faro and his subjects. 



8i 



Approaching Madison 
Street the crowd increases, 
and you find the jam at this 
corner even worse than at 
the corner of State and 
Madison. Now you pass a 
Dime Museum with its gar- 
ish pictures, and in the same 
block you discover a noted 
restaurant of the ' ' economy 
and plenty ' ' order — a res- 
taurant patronized princi- 
pally by country visitors, 
and at which about seven 
thousand meals are said to 
be served daily ; while still 
farther to the south you 
may inspect an excellent 
example of the American 
coffee-house, where break- 
fast customers are each 
presented with a morning 
newspaper that they are 
permitted to take with 
them when they depart. 

Now you have passed 
the Government Building 
and are in the neighbor- 
hood of your hotel once 
more, where you drop in 
for luncheon, and order a 
carriage for an afternoon 
drive along the boulevards 




82 

and through the principal residence portion of the city, which 
Hes to the south and in the neighborhood of the Lake front. 

It is needless for you to attempt to see the entire Park system 
in one afternoon, or even one day, for the city is encircled by six 
large parks which are connected with one another by thirty-seven 
and one-half miles of boulevards ; and there are in addition to 
these several smaller parks in different parts of the city. 

W^hen you engage your carriage you tell the driver that you 
want to see where the prominent men of Chicago live, and he 
starts his horses off at a rattling pace down Michigan Avenue 
to Sixteenth Street. Then he wheels sharply to the left, and after 
traversing two blocks turns into Prairie Avenue. The probabili- 
ties are that you will be disappointed with the street and the 
dwelling-houses upon it. You have heard, perhaps, that the 
wealthy men of Chicago live in palaces, and so a great many of 
them do, but the residents of Prairie Avenue, for the most part, 
have long ago passed that stage of weakness which demands dis- 
play. If the exteriors be somewhat lacking in ornamentation, 
and appear somewhat rusty and time-worn, the interiors are by 
no means wanting in either comfort or elegance. The walls of 
many are hung with the works of the greatest m.asters, and the 
libraries are libraries in fact as well as name. All this your men- 
tor tells you as you drive along, and as he points out the houses 
of one millionaire after another. Farther to the south on Calu- 
met Avenue are the homes of other opulent Chicagoans, and 
the same may be said of the Grand Boulevard and of Michi- 
gan Avenue, too, into which you turn for the trip back to your 
hotel. 

You have, in this drive, been impressed with the extent and 
the excellent order of the wide boulevards, their firm, dustless, 
macadamized driveways, their picturesque borders of trees and 
flowers, and their numerous signs of " No traffic teams allowed," 
and yet you have had but a mere glimpse of the system, and 



ha\'e not e\'en so much as neared the south parks, where are 
the buildings of the World's Columbian Exposition. 

The Lake Shore drive, which you plan to take in the morn- 
ing, including a A'isit to Lincoln Park, the most northern of the 
public pleasure grounds, is over the grandest boulevard in the 
city, and past some of its most palatial mansions. This excur- 
sion, too, shows you the new sea-wall which is being built out 
into the lake at an expense which is simply enormous, but which 
will when completed inclose a long, broad body of lake water 
available for sailing and rowing, and afford a handsome paved 
beach, esplanade, and driveway. You may. moreo\'er, if you 
so desire, stop on your way and inspect the City Water-Works, 
at the southern end of the Lake Shore drive ; and then pro- 
ceeding to Lincoln Park revel to your heart's content in the 
many natural and artificial beauties it affords — its undulating 
lawns, its gracefully winding avenues, its placid lakes, its hand- 
some bridges, its rich floral displays, its zoological gardens, and 
its monuments and statuary. You return to the city by way 
of Dearborn Avenue, where you are amazed to find a double 
row of handsome dwelhngs stretching for miles, and equalmg, 
if not exceeding, in picturesqueness and variety those that you 
have already seen. 

Your driver, if he takes a friendly interest in you, now sug- 
gests that vou see the County Jail, in which the Anarchists who 
incited the riot and threw the dynamite bombs on that fatal 
night of May 4th, 1SS6, were confined and hanged ; and so on 
reaching Michigan Street you turn oft^ to the right and stop 
before the old-fashioned prison, built after the manner of jails 
constructed in the early years of the present century. 

This visit and the chatter with which you are now. favored 
concerning the dynamiters induces you to make another detour 
when you come to Randolph Street, turning westward to Hay- 
market Square, where the police monument is erected to the 



84 

honor of the brave officers who risked or sacrificed their Hves 
in defense of the law, and in commemoration of the death of 
Anarchy in the city. The scene of the tragedy, in which seven 
poHcemen were killed outright or died shortly after as a result 
of their wounds, is pointed out to you on Desplaines Street, 
between the Haymarket and an alley running east, and you 
look with some degree of awe upon the street in front of Crane 
Brothers' manufactory, where stood the Avagon from which the 
Anarchist speakers addressed the mob, and near which the 
terrible explosion occurred. 

One of the greatest show- places in the city you have yet to 
visit. Chicago is a great manufacturing city, and a great com- 
mercial city, but its greatest industry is its live stock business, 
and to see Chicago and not see the Union Stock Yards is to 
see the play of ' ' Hamlet ' ' with Ha7nlet left out. So you put 
on some old clothes and take a State Street cable-car going 
south, and transfer at Forty-third Street to a car going west. 
At the entrance to the yards, which cover a tract of over four 
hundred acres, you gladly avail yourself of the proffered serv- 
ices of a guide, who conducts you throughout the vast inclos- 
ure, explaining everything as you go. "The plant of the Union 
Stock Yards Company," he tells you, ''cost 84,000,000, and the 
various packing companies having buildings in the vicinity have 
invested in their business something like 517,000,000 additional. 
The number of employes at the yards is twenty-four thousand 
five hundred, and the yards' greatest capacity is twenty thou- 
sand head of cattle, twelve thousand hogs, and fifteen thousand 
head of sheep. There are here twenty miles of wood-paved 
streets, twenty miles of drinking troughs supplied with fresh 
water from six artesian wells, and fifty miles of feeding troughs." 

You watch with interest the process of turning a live bullock 
into so much beef, and are surprised not a little at the way in 
which the labor is divided, the rapidity with which the trans- 



85 

formation is accomplished, and the careful manner in which 
every part of the beast is utilized for one purpose or another. 
You see the swine driven in and weighed, you see it killed, 
bled, and scalded, and its bristles shaved off and preserved, and 
you see it quartered, the hams and shoulders going one way 




MOUNTAIN, STREAM AND MEADOW. 



and the sides into a pickle bath. So, too, you see the sheep 
changed into mutton, and you turn away wondering at the ap- 
petite of the world that consumes all this meat and more daily. 
You have now received a fairly good idea of the city and 
its principal points of interest, but there still remain many other 
features that, if you have the time to spare, you may visit with 



86 

}M-otit. You may, for instance, run out to the town of Pullman, 
ten miles south of the city, on the shore of Lake Calumet, which, 
founded by George M. Pullman, the palace- car magnate, real- 
izes, in some respects, the supreme idea of socialism, though 
no community probably is more unsatisfactory to the sociaUstic 
dreamer. Primarily it is the home of the extensive car-w^orks 
of the Pullman Palace Car Company, which have a capacity of 
about $10,000,000 worth of cars per annum, about fifty pas- 
senger, freight, and street cars being completed daily ; but there 
are in the town, you wall find, many other objects w^orth seeing. 
So, too, in Chicago itself there are other points that a 
month's visit would fail to exhaust — the manufactories, the li- 
braries, the Art Institute, the charitable institutions, the House 
of Correction, the Fire Department, the schools and colleges, 
the museums, the cycloramas, the railroad depots, the bridges, 
the tunnels, the viaducts, the wharves, the street-car system, the 
elevated railroads, the banks and clearing-houses, the relics of 
old Chicago when it was but a swamp between prairie and lake, 
the fire relics, and a host of other matters and things that the 
city can alone suggest. 




AUen, Lane & Scott, Engr 



CHICAGO ( Business Portion { 



THE WORLD^S 
COLUMBIAN EXPOSITION OF 1893. 




-^^ UT two years ago two-thirds of Jackson 
Park was a wilderness — two or three 
small groves of scrub oak and maple, 
with here and there a clump of fiery 
sumac alone breaking the dreary waste 
of swamp land. When, in May, 1893, 
the President of the United States pro- 
claimed the Columbian Exposition open, 
these same broad acres on the shore of 
Lake Michigan bore upon their breast a 
city more beautiful than artist's brush ever 
dared to picture or poet's fancy to sing — a city w^hose pin- 
nacles pierced the clouds and w^hose glistening domes rivaled 
in dazzling glory the effulgence of the sun itself; a city that 
teemed with treasures gathered from the four corners of the 
earth ; a city in w^hich the w^onders of the age were grouped 
in alluring yet embarrassing profusion ; a city in whose harbor 
were gathered the marine craft of four centuries, and through 
whose streets sauntered visitors from every clime. 

You stand upon the huge pier jutting far out into the lake 
and gaze about you. The transformation is now complete. It 
is the summer of 1893. The last nail has been driven, the last 
exhibit has been put in place, the great gates have been flung 
wide, and the World's Columbian Exposition is an accomplished 
fact. From this coign of vantage you get your first view of 
what has been prepared for you. Hitherto you have been told 



(87) 



88 



a good deal about the Fair in a general way. You know, for 
instance, that it extends over not only Jackson Park, with its 
h\e hundred and eighty-six acres, but that Washington Park, a 
mile away, with its three hundred and seventy-one acres, and the 
connecting strip of land, eighty acres in extent, called the Mid- 
wa}- Plaisance, have also been utilized to a greater or less ex- 
tent, and you realize how much more stupendous it must be 
than the Paris Exposition of 18S9, which, with the Champ de 




MANUFACTURES AND LIBERAL ARTS BUILDING. 

Mars, the Trocadero, the Esplanade des Invalides, and the 
quays, took in but one hundred and seventy-three acres in all. 
You remember, too, that the principal buildings here cover one 
hundred and fifty acres, while those at Paris covered but fifty- 
fivt, and you are consequently prepared, in a measure, for the 
spectacle which rises up before you as you look across the 
crystal surface of the breakwater-protected harbor, with its many 
and varied craft, to the gracefully curving shore line and the 
magnificent group of buildings beyond. 



89 

To your right, and bv far the most conspicuous object from 
the lake, is the lon^-, hio-h. vet thorouo-hlv symmetrical structure 
of the Manufactures and Liberal Arts Building, its extraordinary 
length broken midway by a lofty arched entrance between elabo- 
rately ornamented piers and surmounted by bright-hued banners 
that seem, so high are they, to be fluttering among the clouds, 
while higher still abo\'e it all rises the domed roof of glass re- 
flecting the blue of the heavens. Along its whole extent, too, at 
intervals, upon the green lawns that slope from its i\'ory-colored 
walls to the white stone esplanade that skirts the lake, you 
notice picturesque little booths with gaudy awnings, and beyond, 
before the tiu'reted structure from which the Stars and Stripes 
are flying, and which you know must be the building of the 
United States Government, you get a long-distance \'iew of blue- 
uniformed troops going through a series of e\'olutions upon the 
parade ground in front of an encampment of snowy tents ; while 
just oft' shore here, as if to contrast the navy with the army, you 
discover the white hull, spindling masts, and short smoke stacks 
of a line of battle ship. 

Directly before you, across a broad colonnade, beneath which 
a high and wide arch gives free access from the harbor to the 
canal system of the grounds, and along which, equidistantly 
spaced, are forty-eight symbol-capped columns representative of 
the forty-eight States and Territories of the Union, is the grand 
avenue with its broad, gondola-flecked basin, from whose mir- 
ror-like surface rises St. Gauden's colossal gilded statue of the 
Republic. Fountains are throwing aloft a myriad jets that glit- 
ter in the sunlight like so many endless ropes of dazzling gems, 
and on either side the beautiful facades of the Liberal Arts and 
the Agricultural Buildings face each other from the top of terraces 
that gradually slope to the dividing waters. At the far end of 
the basin, flanked by the Machinery Hall on one side and the 
Electrical and ^Lnino- Buildino;s on the other, vou descrv the 



90 

blazing domes of the Administration Building, and even at this 
distance you concede the good judgment of those who predicted 
that this, of all the structures on the grounds, would be the 
crowning triumph of the Exposition. 

The peristyle, across wdiich this view is presented, and which, 
in its general form and features, reminds you of that leading to 
St. Peter's, at Rome, connects, you now observe, two build- 
ings, and from the one at the north, even as you begin to 
admire its shapely outline, there floats out to you across the 
harbor the music of many voices. It is the Music Hall of the 
Fair, and a Musical Congress is holding daily sessions within 
its spacious w^alls. 

The building to the south, a guard tells you, serves as a 
restaurant, while as for the curious little structure on that 
tongue of rising ground, projecting into the lake, at this res- 
taurant's southeastern corner, it is an exact copy of the Con- 
vent of La Rabida, at Palos, in which Columbus lived w^hile per- 
fecting his plans for his voyage of discovery. Recalled thus to 
a reahzation of the event that the Exposition celebrates, and re- 
membering that among the features of the naval pageant re- 
cently held in New^ York Harbor were models of the caravel 
Santa Maria, and her consorts Pi7ita and Nina, the fleet with 
W'hich Columbus crossed the Atlantic, you search among the 
many curious and incongruous vessels anchored or drifting in 
the harbor for these copies of the Spanish cruisers of 1492, to 
find them, it is likely, appropriately moored under the shadow^ 
of the convent walls. 

And now a steamboat, crowded to the guards, is being made 
fast to the pier ; a throng of visitors rushes down the gang- 
plank and you join in the procession that hurries shoreward. 
Thus far you have got a very general idea of the Exposition — 
a notion merely of some of the greater buildings and their lo- 
cation. The picture was beautiful, but it w^as, to a certain extent, 



91 

misleading. You have not as yet seen a tithe of the whole 
show, and what you have seen has been dwarfed by the distance 
from which you viewed it. Once on shore you turn to your 
left, pass between the restaurant building, that you saw from 
the pier, and the convent building, in which are no end of relics 
of the Spanish discoverer, and mounting a stairway to the ele- 
vated electric railroad, take passage upon it for a tour of the 
grounds. The moving sidewalk, which perhaps you have taken 
from the end of the pier, is an exhibit of the cable-car com- 









^. 



bird's-eye view of exposition buildings. 



panies of the city, the motive power being an endless cable 
worked by powerful engines. A moving platform is running 
at the rate of three miles an hour, and adjoining this, so that 
you may without danger step from the one to the other, is a 
similar platform furnished with a succession of benches and 
making a speed of six miles an hour. Seated now in a car of 
the electric railway you pass between the Agricultural Annex, 
with its overflow^ exhibits of agricultural machinery, and the For- 
estry Building, devoted to the purpose which its name indicates. 



92 

On your left are the extensive live stock sheds, covering no 
less than forty acres, and on your right, as you circle around 
the southern end of the grounds proper is the circular inclos- 
ure used for a cattle exhibit and connecting with the colonnade 
that joins the Agricultural Building with Machinery Hall. Now 
you skirt the rear of this latter-named building with its boiler- 
houses and steam-generating plant, dart in between it and its 
chief annex on the west, and are carried over the sheds into 
which run the tracks of the score or more of railroads having 
a terminus at the grounds. 

The view on your right, with the Administration Building 
directly before you, and the Grand Avenue with its splendid 
facades stretching away on either side of the grand canal to the 
lake, is one of the most beautiful prospects afforded by the trip, 
and gives you a very much more adequate idea of this the chief 
point of the Exposition than was afforded by the view you had 
of it in the opposite direction. 

Curving to the westward at the southw^est corner of the Mines 
and Mining Building you pass the Pennsylvania Railroad Com- 
pany's beautiful Greek structure, with its accompanying tracks 
and signal tower, and flash by the southern end of the richly- 
colored Transportation Building, decorated in gold, yellow, and 
red, the national colors of Spain, in commemoration of the fact 
that it was that country that provided the first means of trans- 
port to the New World. You traverse the western front of this 
structure, and then at a little distance pass Horticultural Hall, 
with its rose-tinted walls and its dome of glinting glass. The 
smaller building, which next appears on your right, looking for 
all the world like a Pompeiian palace, its marble-like sides a 
warm ivory, deepening into orange, and its roof a brilliant red, 
is that devoted to woman's work, while off to your left, along 
what is called the Midway Plaisance, you see the quaint towers, 
arches, and minarets of a group of structures distinctively for- 



93 

eign — the bazaars of all nations and a various collection of at- 
tractions of a semi-private character. 

Approaching now the northern end of the Fair grounds you 
pass in rapid succession the pavilions of some of the Western 
States and Territories, and turning eastward once again find 
still more of these architecturally- ornamented State reservations. 
For some distance you follow the Lake Shore southward, flit 
by one of the annexes of the Art Gallery, getting a glimpse of 
the turquoise dome of the Art Palace itself, and alight, finally, 
between the Aztec temple, erected by the Republic of Mexico, 
and one of the arms of the lagoon system, having traveled about 
three miles from your starting point. 

In order to get an idea now of the water-ways of the grounds 
you descend a broad sweep of steps between flower-garnished 
terraces to a spacious landing stage, where you engage one of 
the many rapid-moving electric launches to convey you through 
the lagoons and canals to the great basin. Comfortably reclining 
on a cushioned seat in the stern, and shielded from the sun's rays 
by an ample awning, you float swiftly over the surface of the 
clear, sparkling waters, passing dozens of boats like your own, 
brightly-colored gondolas propelled by real Venetian gondoliers, 
row-boats, steam launches, and canoes, all filled with jolly, glee- 
ful folk like yourself, out for a holiday and apparently enjoying 
every moment to the full. The terraced shores, too, are crowded 
with sight-seers, and there on the wide plateau to your left are 
the encamped soldiers indulging in a grand review by the com- 
mander-in-chief of the army, and in the presence of thousands 
of spectators. Now you glide between the Government Building 
on one hand and the Fisheries Building on the other, and shoot- 
ing beneath the wide span of a picturesque bridge find yourself 
on the principal lagoon to the east of a beautiful wooded island, 
from whose fertile soil rises specimens of a thousand trees in- 
digenous to the United States, richly blooming azaleas, gorgeous 



94 

rhododendrons, and scores of other flowering and decorative 
shrubs ; aquatic fowls of e\'ery chme are swimming about you, 
darting here and there, or taking wing and flying off to the ver- 
dant shores of the leafy isle, and your sportsman's instincts assert 
themselves only to be vigorously repressed as a flock of fat wid- 
geon get up in front of your boat and circle off" into one of the 
less frequented bays. A little farther on you see a white sea-gull, 
and before you have passed half the length of the Liberal Arts 
structure, along whose western side you are now skimming, your 
watchful gaze has been rewarded with sight of several swans, a 
brown pelican, a stork, a couple of scarlet ibes, and a flamingo. 
The Main Building is still shutting off" your view lakeward even 
after you have shot under another bridge and have come in sight 
of the Electrical Building on your left, and it continues to do so 
until at length you float out into the Grand Canal. 

Your landing is made in front of the Main Building's southern 
facade, and as you join the crowd ascending the broad flight of 
snowy steps to the grand avenue you realize for the first time the 
grandeur of this mammoth palace. In coloring it has the tone 
of old alabaster, the surface of which has begun to disintegrate, 
and so closely does the "staft^" or stucco, of which its panels and 
columns are composed, resemble this material that you can 
scarcely believe it a less substantial imitation. About the great 
arched middle entrance you observe a wealth of sculptured adorn- 
ment, in which female figures symbolical of the various arts and 
sciences play a conspicuous and attractive part ; while medallions 
representative of the arms and seals of the sev^eral States, and of 
foreign nations as well, find employment in ornamenting both 
architrave and spandrel. Once inside the building you are still 
further impressed by its vastness, and you are not surprised to 
learn that to make a complete circuit of it means to travel a full 
mile, and that so high is its great arched roof that the entire 
Auditorium Building, of which Chicago is so justly proud, tow^er 



95 

c-and all, could be wheeled beneath it. You observe that above a 
vcertain point no attempt has been made to decorate the space 
(OA'erhead, save to paint it a light tone that at night reflects the 
■electric light ; but the long lines of gallery fronts have been 
1:reated with a good deal of modeled Vv'ork sufhciently strong in 
.color to gi\'e animation, while broad gold and colored bands 
ornament the lower portion of the roof There are three side- 
'galleries, you discoA'er. inclosing the great central gallery, while 
between the enormous girders of the central roof other galleries 
have been placed twenty-flve feet abo\'e the ground and pro- 
jecting into the hall, from which }'ou get a general view of 
the immense array of exhibits and the busv scene on the floor 
'below. 

But it is not merely a general view that you desire, and so 
•descending to the fifty-foot wide avenue, that has been named 
" Columbia,'' and that extends through the entire length of the 
"building, you begin an examination of the million interesting 
objects there on exhibition. Passing from the section set apart 
for one nation to that of another, and from one group of ex- 
hibits to an entirelv diflerent ofroup, vou soon find vourself 
experiencing a veritable night-mare, in which paints and \-ar- 
nishes, type-writers and stationery, upholstery goods and wall 
papers, tiles and pottery, metal work and stained glass, gold 
and silver ware, watches and clocks, silks and woolens, furs 
and laces, rubber goods and leather goods, cook stoves and 
refrigerators, iron gates and cutlery, are jumbled in inextricable 
confusion. 

Now you dart ofl' into the department set aside for the Lib- 
eral Arts, including education, literature, engineering, music, and 
the drama, and find relief for the time being from the embar- 
rassing richness of the manufactures. 

On your return journey through this tremendous store-house 
of manufactures and liberal art works you discover many things 



96 

that you overlooked in your scurry northward, stopping perhaps 
to inspect with some degree of care the exhibit of a Kansas 
taxidermist, which inclucles one hundred and fifty of the largest 
animals of the United States — buffalo, elk, moose, antelope, deer, 
mountain sheep, goats, wild cats, wolves, and bear — or the 
American Sportsman's exhibit, comprising every w^eapon and 
utensil used in hunting, fishing, and trapping from the time the 
country was discovered to the present day. 

Then, coming out at the southeastern corner beneath another 
of the buildings' elaborately ornamented archways, you pass 






'"■'■i^i&JH 



^^i^ 




over the peristyle that bridges the great basin, and approach 
the Agricultural Building, getting as you go an excellent view 
of this single-story structure, with its imposing main entrance 
between colossal Ionic columns, its statuary-ornamented roof, 
its mammoth glass dome in the centre, and its lesser domes at 
the corners, each surmounted by three female figures of hercu- 
lean proportions supporting an enormous globe. The tremen- 
dous structure you have just left covers thirty and a half acres, 
and the one you are now about to enter seems small in com- 
parison with its nine acres only of floor space. Passing in at 
the main portal, which is designed as a temple to Ceres, with 



97 

a statue of the goddess in the centre, rising from a mosaic floor 
of black and white to indicate the Ionic character of the build- 
ing, and surrounded by a lofty colonnade and domed roof all 
richly expressed in gold and color, you find yourself in one of 
a large number of small galleries that surround the central 
rotunda, which is one hundred feet in diameter and one hun- 
dred and thirty feet high. 

Every inch of ground space, outside the wide avenues and 
the arcade which runs all the way around the building, is de- 
voted to exhibits of a somewhat prosaic character. Here, for 
example, you travel in and out among great piles of biscuits, 
cakes, and crackers, and a little farther on come upon pyramids 
of cans of preserved fruits and meats, while a large portion of 
the building, you soon discover, is taken up with farming tools, 
implements, and machinery. These have, it is true, been 
grouped and arranged with an eye for picturesque effect, but 
unless you are especially interested in the subject you are will- 
ing to make your stay in the agricultural palace a brief one. As 
a consequence, you grasp as well as you can its chief architec- 
tural features, and then make your escape by way of the colon- 
nade which connects its southwestern extremity with Machinery 
Hall, stopping en route to visit the live stock Assembly Hall, 
which is just south of the colonnade. Here on the first floor 
is the Bureau of Information and the offices of scores of cattle 
and horse associations, dog and pet stock associations, and 
other live stock organizations ; while on the floor above is 
an assembly hall in which you find a body of grangers listen- 
ing to an address on some topic connected with their field of 
work. 

If you are particularly interested in agriculture you will be 
interested in forestry and dairy products as well, and will turn 
eastward instead of westward, and visit the buildings devoted to 
these purposes, which lie between the Agricultural Annex and 



98 

the lake ; and you will stop for an hour or two, perhaps, also 
to look at the live stock display — the horses, the cattle, the 
swine, and the sheep that will be found beneath the sheds to 
the south of the other structures. 

\\' hether you care for these things or not, however, you will 
surely drop in at this quaintly picturesque Spanish house that 
overlooks the lake, and that you now recognize as the copy of 
the Convent of La Rabida that you saw first from the pier, and 
after^vards a^ you passed up to the elevated moving sidewalk. 
Inside you find a storehouse of relics. Beginning with maps, 
models, and facsimiles illustrating the condition of navigation 
and the knowledge of geography before and during the time of 
Columbus, there is likewise exhibited a statue of Leif Erikson, 
together with maps and charts of his alleged voyages, and the 
settlement that it is claimed he made in Greenland years be- 
fore Columbus sighted the West Indies. The Norse ships of 
this period are also shown by means of models, a well as a 
fine collection of old navigating and other nautical instruments. 
In another room you discover the life history of Columbus, 
illustrated by views of the various cities that claim him as their 
son, models of the houses in which he was supposed to have 
been born ; photographs of the University of Pavia, where he 
was educated, &c., &c. In still another room you come across 
an extensive picture gallery, including all the paintings, either 
originals or copies, in which Columbus figures, while in yet 
another apartment are the portraits, busts, and statues of Co- 
lumbus. 

A most interesting display that you have yet to see in this 
vicinity is the Ethnological Museum, which is in charge of Pro- 
fessor F. W. Putnam, of Harvard College. 

The most important part of this collection, you observe, refers 
to North and South America. Commencing with the earliest 
traces of the existence of man in the Northern Hemisphere, 



99 

illustrations are shown of the geology, the flora, and the fauna 
of the period, the latter including actual specimens of the mam- 
moth and the mastodon. Here, too, you see models of the 
great earth-works in Ohio, in which are combined squares, oc- 
tagons, circles, and other figures, and, what particularly inter- 
ests you, the massive skeleton of a man encased in copper armor, 
the head covered by an oval-shaped copper cap, and the neck 
encircled by a necklace of bears' teeth set with pearls, together 
with a similar female skeleton. These, you learn, were recently 
discovered in one of the Ohio mounds fourteen feet below the 
surface of the earth, and are generally supposed to be the skel- 
etons of the King and Queen of the Mound Builders, and to 
have been buried fully six hundred years ago. 

Another class of exhibits in this same collection includes the 
ancient cliff houses and ruined pueblos of Colorado, Arizona, 
and New Mexico : models of the existing pueblos, such as those 
of Moki and Zuni, which appear to form a direct link with the 
past races ; and reproductions of some portion of those great 
stone buildings in Central America, Mexico, and Peru of which 
there is but little knowledge. Here, too, you see many groups 
of natives from different tribes not only of North and South 
America, but from Europe, Asia, and Africa as well, including 
several pygmies from the land of Tippu-Tib, living in their own 
huts and engaged in their own special industries. A number 
of these little colonies, however, you And not in the building 
at all, but outside in the open air, some of the principal ones 
being a part of the Indian Bureau exhibit. Here the Xavajos 
are weaving blankets, the Zunis, dwelling in what they call a 
"hogan," are making pottery, while the Piutes are fashioning 
water-bottles out of rushes. 

Machinery Hall, which you next visit, presents but a poor 
prospect from the south, and so you approach it by way of the 
Grand Avenue, crossing the bridge between it and Machiner>^ 



lOO 

Hall, and getting an excellent prospective from its northeast 
corner. Though lacking the boldness that makes of the Ad- 
ministration Building the architectural chef-d'oeiivre of the Ex- 
position, this edifice impresses you as more artistically pleasing 
than either its gigantic neighbor devoted to manufactures and 
the liberal arts, or its equal-sized sister across the lagoon de- 
voted to agriculture. In its details it suggests sunny Seville, 
though the general character of the architecture, like that of 
the other buildings fronting on the Grand Avenue, is thoroughly 
classic. Composed of three long arch-roofed compartments, 




MACHINERY HALL. 



similar to train-sheds — the idea being to dispose of them at 
the close of the Exposition for that purpose — the ornamenta- 
tion is devoted entirely to the exterior, which is rich with 
columns and arches opening to an inner arcade, domed and 
turreted corner pavilions and statue-adorned towers rising from 
either side of the imposing porticos that form the main en- 
trances. 

Here yoi4 see machinery of all kinds in motion. There are 
motors for the generation and apparatus for the transmission of 



lOI 

power ; hydraulic and pneumatic devices ; tire-engines and tire- 
ladders ; machines for working metals and machines for working 
stone : machines for twisting silk and machines for weaving fab- 
rics ; type-setting machines and printing presses ; paper-making 
machinerv ; wood-workino- machinerv : o:lass-cuttino: machinery ; 
pumps, elevators, and a thousand and one odd patented arrange- 
ments that you have never seen before nor ever so much as 
dreamed of 

And then, back of all this, in another building — the Ma- 
chinery Annex — off to the west, covering between four and 
five acres, is almost as much again of the same sort : while to 
the south, connected with the main structure, is what is known, 
as the boiler plant, which supplies steam to the great power 
station which occupies a space along the entire south side of 
this great storehouse of mechanism. Here you find engine 
after engine of all makes and all sizes, from the comparatively 
small aftair of one hundred and fifty horse-power to the enor- 
mious machine of one thousand horse- power, aggregating fully 
twenty-five thousand horse-power in all. From this source, you 
learn, power is furnished not alone to Machinery Hall, but 
throughout the grounds to the various other buildings, supply- 
ing them with light and heat, as well 'as aftbrding energy for 
other purposes. It ie not steam, though, that is sent through 
the tunnels, but compressed air, which is used to operate all 
the machinery in motion. 

The Administration Building, which next claims your atten- 
tion, is well worth a careful study from without as well as from 
within. \^iewed from the elevation of your moving sidewalk 
ride about the grounds, the great ovoid dome, two hundred 
and twenty feet in height, has appeared to you somewhat out 
of proportion to the underlying foundation, but now as you 
stand on the pavement of the Grand Avenue and gaze up at 
it, you realize that a dome of less girth and amplitude would 



t02 

have looked meagre and ineffectual. The general design of 
the building, which is two hundred and fifty feet square, is, you 
observe, in the style of the French renaissance. The first great 
story, of the Doric order, is of heroic proportions, surrounded 
by a lofty balustrade and having the great tiers of the angle 
of each of the four pavilions which form its corners crowned 
with sculpture. The second story, with its lofty and spacious 
colonnade, is of the Ionic order. The design, you notice, has 





If 'If flU |||t 



ADMINISTRATION BUILDING. 



been divided in its height into three principal stages. The 
first, consisting of the four pavilions, corresponding in height 
with the various buildings grouped about it, w^hich are about 
sixty-five feet high ; the second stage of the same height, a 
continuation of the central rotunda ; and the third stage, the 
base of the great dome, thirty feet in height and octagonal in 
form, and the great dome itself, which is over one-third the 
height of the entire structure. 



103 

Oil the panels of the first story are inscriptions detailing facts 
in the life of Columbus, and the names of discoverers of conti- 
nents or portions of continents, and when you have entered by 
one of the fifty-feet wide, deeply recessed, and semi-circular 
arched portals, you find upon the interior still more inscriptions 
recording important discoveries in science and the names of the 
discoverers. 

The interior features of the building approach, if they do not 
exceed, in beauty and splendor those of the exterior. Between 
every two of the grand entrances and connecting the interven- 
ing pavilion with the great rotunda you find a hall or loggia 
thirty feet square giving access to the offices, and provided with 
broad circular stairways and swift-running elevators. In one 
pavilion are located the Fire and Police Departments, with cells 
for the detention of prisoners ; in another, the offices of the 
Ambulance Service, the physicians and pharmacy, the Foreign 
Department, and the Information Bureau ; in the third, the post- 
oflfice and a bank, and in the fourth the offices of Public Com- 
fort and a restaurant. On the upper floors of the pavilions are 
the board-rooms, the committee-rooms, the rooms of the Di- 
rector-General, the Department of Publicity and Promotion, and 
of the United States Columbian Commission. 

Inquiry here gives you a fund of information concerning the 
Exposition that you have hitherto failed to acquire, and which 
is, now that you are on the grounds, of more than passing inter- 
est. Briefly stated, you learn, for example, that the total cost of 
the Exposition is something like $17,500,000. Of this amount 
Chicago citizens subscribed $6,000,000 ; the Illinois Legislature 
authorized the city to issue bonds for $5,000,000 more ; and the 
United States Government contributed $1,500,000 and loaned 
$5,000,000, In addition to this, of course, each State, the same 
as each foreign country, appropriated a certain sum to provide 
for its own particular exhibit. 



I04 

Here, too, you get information as to the dimensions and cost 
of the various buildings, in all probability in tabulated form 
somethino- like this : — 



Buildings. Feet. 

Manufactures 787 by 1687 

Agriculture 500 800 

Annex 328 500 

Machinery .... 500 800 

Power-house 80 600 

Annexes 490 551 

Assembly Hall 450 500 

Mines and Mining 350 700 

Electricit}' 345 700 

Adminstration 260 260 

Transportation 250 960 

Horticulture 250 1000 

Women's 200 400 

United States Government ..... 350 420 

Na\y Battle-ship 248 69 

Fisheries 163 363 

Annexes 135 diameter 

Fine Arts , 320 by 500 

Annexes 123 200 

Forestry- 200 500 

Saw-mill 125 300 

Dairy 95 200 

Live Stock 53 -330 

Live Stock Sheds 

Music Hall 140 200 

Restaurant 140 200 



Armed with this array of figures you stop for an inspection 
of the under side of the dome, which you discover is enriched 
with deep panelings filled in with sculpture in low relief and 
enormous paintings, representing the arts and sciences, and 



Acres. 


Cost. 


30.5 


$1,000,000 


9-2\ 
3-8/ 


540,000 


9.8^ 




I.I 


1,200,000 


6.2J 




5.2 


200,000 


5.6 


250,000 


5.5 


365,000 


1.6 


450,000 


5.5 


280,000 


5.8 


300,000 


1.8 


120,000 


3.4 


400,000 


2.0 


100,000 


i.o-l 
•. 0.8 J 


200,000 


3.7| 

I.I i 


500,000 


2.3 


100,000 


0.9 


35,000 


0.5 


30,000 


i.3| 
40.0 J 


150,000 


0.7 


100,000 


0.7 


100,000 




$6,430,000 



I05 

r 

then you descend to terra firma once more, and passing out by 
the northern archway, find yourself between the Mines and 
Mining and the Electrical Buildings. You choose the latter for 
your next visit, and, as is your habit, halt a moment before 
entering to take in at a glance some of its chief architectural 
features. What impresses you most forcibly is the portico and 
colonnade that extend the whole width of the building on each 
side of the monumental main entrance, over which latter are in- 




^ 



f^l »« ^^ W^ "^^ K 



Hijjliiiiriffjiiifif 



ir- 



ELECTRICAL BUILDING. 



scribed a series of names famous in the annals of electrical sci- 
ence, and in the centre of which, upon a lofty pedestal, is a 
colossal statue of Benjamin Franklin, whose illustrious name con- 
nects the early history of the RepubHc with one of the most 
important discoveries in the phenomena of electricity. The main 
tower here, two hundred feet in height, also commands your 
gaze, as do the shorter and more slender ones on either side. 
While the walls have the same eburnean appearance as those 
of the other buildings on the Grand Avenue, you note an 



io6 

extravagance of decoration about the entrance that has not been 
observable elsewhere. The columns here, for instance, are of 
porphyry, and e\'ery\vhere are great masses of gilt modeled work 
in relief, the object being, you learn, to afford as brilliant an 
effect as possible by night, when the whole structure is fairly 
ablaze with electric light. 

The interior, which, after dark, must be dazzling in its bril- 
liancy, contains nevertheless by daylight many exhibits of rare 
interest, and you spend hours here among the wonders which 
every step unfolds. The space set apart for and occupied by 
the inventions of the Wizard Edison is especially rich in mar- 
vels ; and you can readily believe that the inventor has made 
this display the greatest achievement of his life. What you see 
is not only practical, but the effects are spectacular and novel 
as well. 

In the decorations of the chief entrance to the Mines and 
Mining Building, gold, silver, and black are freely used as em- 
blematical of mineral products. Sculptures symbolical of the 
character of the exhibits within are also prominent, and you ob- 
serve that the general style of the building's architecture sug- 
gests the early Italian renaissance, somewhat freely treated. 
Here, too, are the inevitable corner paviHons with their low 
domes and their waving banners ; and here, too, you find the 
usual arcade opening upon a loggia on the ground floor and 
wide gallery above. You are impressed somew^hat by the mar- 
ble facings of the loggia, of various kinds and hues, and then 
you realize that these are exhibits, and will probably have a 
good market value after the close of the Exposition. 

So rich is the United States in natural mineral resources of 
almost every kind, and so large and varied are its requirements, 
that you are not surprised to find on the floor of this structure, 
and in the United States section, an exceedingly extensive dis- 
play of all varieties of raw mineral products ; of metals obtained 



I07 

from the ores, manufactured metals, mining and metallurgical 
machinery, and, indeed, everything that serves to illustrate the 
vast industries of mining and of metallurgy. 

You discover that the subject of coal has been treated in very 
broad lines, the exhibit in this respect being qualitative rather 
than quantitative. Here are the different varieties, produced at 
different localities, together with the chemical analysis of each, 
and the results of tests determining their economic value and 




MINES AND MINING BUILDING. 



adaptability to various purposes. The iron exhibit, too, is 
arranged with full appreciation of the magnitude and impor- 
tance of the iron industry ; and the process of extracting the 
precious metals is demonstrated in the most thorough manner. 
One of the most interesting displays is a collection of the im- 
plements used by the pioneers who went to California in 1849, 
at the outbreak of the gold fever there, including an old ' ' pla- 
cer" plant in complete operation. Nor is this all. A little far- 
ther on you come upon the shafts of a coal mine, and are told 



io8 

that here is a full-sized model showing how coal is mined in 
Pennsylvania ; while not far away is a similar model of an iron 
mine, with all the mining paraphernalia in full \-iew. 

The view from the northern end of the Mines and Mining 
Building, looking across the archipelago of small islands to the 
larger wooded island beyond, is in striking contrast with the 
scene you have just left, and you stand for some minutes enjoy- 
ing the sylvan prospect before turning to your left and entering 
the golden portal of the Transportation Building, which here 
stretches its length of nine hundred and sixty feet along the 
western edge of the Jackson Park site. Romanesque in gen- 
eral style, it, nevertheless, in some particulars — the manner in 
which it is designed on axial lines, the solicitude shown for tine 
proportions, and the subtle relation of parts to each other — 
suggests the methods of composition followed at the Ecole des 
Beaux Arts. The golden door, through an immense single arch, 
enriched to an extraordinary degree with carvings, bas reliefs, 
and several paintings, chief among which is a modeled represen- 
tation of the passenger train par excellence of the world — the 
Pennsylvania Limited — which has a place directly o\'er the en- 
trance, is the keynote of the eastern front, and the remainder 
of the architectural composition falls into a just relation of con- 
trast with it, consisting of a continuous arcade, with subordi- 
nated colonnade and entablature. There are, too, you see, 
numerous minor entrances, grouped about which are terraces 
sloping to the water's edge, picturesque seats, convenient drink- 
ing fountains, and beautiful statuary, all of which, taken with 
the red and yellow and gold of the exterior decorations, the 
blue-green of the lagoon, and the rich foliage and flowers of the 
island opposite, compose a picture more rich in color than is to 
be found anywhere else on the grounds. 

The interior of the building reveals a treatment similar to that 
of a Roman basilica, with broad nave and aisles. The roof is in 



I09 

three divisions, the middle one rising much higher than the 
others, and with its walls pierced to form a beautiful arcade 
clere-story. To the cupola, which is in the exact centre of the 
building, you may ascend by any one of eight elevators, them- 
selves exhibits, and from the height of one hundred and sixty- 
five feet get a view of the park and its ornaments entirely differ- 
ent from any you have yet had. 

• In the way of exhibits, you find about every object that will 
illustrate the work of transportation, whether by land, water, or 
air ; and observe that the collection has been given a historic 




1 R ANSlMjRTATION BUILDING. 



as well as practical interest by the introduction of examples of 
the earliest and crudest forms of transportation appliances from 
all parts of the world. Off from the northwest corner of the 
Transportation Building proper you stray into what is called the 
Service Building, an annex covering nine acres, wherein you dis- 
cover a stupendous array of railway trains, including engines 
and cars. At least a hundred locomotives are facing the central 
avenue, and the perspective is fine beyond description. 

But for a comprehensive idea of the development of rail- 
road construction and equipment in the United States you must 



no 

needs spend some time in that classic white structure near by, 
which flies a banner bearing the words Pennsylvania Railroad 
Company beneath the symbolic keystone. Here you come 
upon not merely exhibits of railroad paraphernalia, but a most 
scholarly grouping and contrasting of everything imaginable 
connected with railroading in America, from a spike to a loco- 
motive, and all so deftly and intelligently arranged that you go 
away with a better idea of the subject, historically and practically, 
than you could have secured in a year's reading of books. 

The rose-tinted Horticultural Building, with its crystal domes 
and roofs, and its many windows of flashing glass, reflecting its 







HORTICULTURAL BUILDING. 



own showy banners and the trees and flowers of its neighboring 
island, now lies directly to the north — a great conservatory a 
thousand feet in length and with a maximum width of two hun- 
dred and eighty-seven feet, surrounded by grounds laid out in 
the most elaborate manner known to the art of the landscape 
gardener. Grounds garnished with fountains and statuary, huge 
vases containing flowers in bloom, tanks (.in which grow the 



Ill 



Egyptian lotus and other specimens of nympheas, all sloping 
to a low parapet that rises above a spacious landing stage on 
the shore of the lagoon. 

Once inside this building you traverse a long court, beauti- 
fully decorated in color and planted with ornamental shrubs 
and flowers ; stand spell-bound beneath the central dome, into 
which mount enormously tall palms, bamboos," tree ferns, cacti, 
and eucalyptus, or climb to the galleries, and in one of the cafes 
there situated partake of a luncheon to the music of splashing 
fountains and surrounded by the sweet odors of many flow^ers. 

The courts facing the wooded island, you note, are devoted 
especially to tender plants, w^hile in the rear courts are the fruit- 
growing exhibits that require a cooler temperature. Here you 
find a large section given over exclusively to the exhibition of 
orange culture in California and Florida, while a most interesting 
exhibit, not far away, consists of the dwarf fruit and other trees 
of Japan, over a century old and not more than two feet high. 

A few steps north "of the Horticultural Building you come 
upon the red-roofed structure devoted to woman's work — de- 
signed by a woman and crowded with the results of woman's 
handicraft. Its style is the Italian renaissance, and it covers a 
space of two hundred by four hundred feet. It is encompassed 
by luxuriant shrubs and beds of fragrant flowers, and stands 
like a white silhouette against a background of verdant leaf- 
age. In front of it the lagoon takes the form of a bay about 
four hundred feet in width. From the middle of this bay a 
grand landing and stair- case leads to a terrace six feet above 
the water. Crossing this terrace, other stair-ways give access 
to the ground, four feet above, on which, at about one hundred 
feet back, the building is situated. 

You enter a lobby, forty feet wide, which leads into a rotunda 
open to the roof, protected by a richly-ornamented skylight, and 
surrounded by a two-story open arcade, the effect being that of 



112 

an Italian court-yard, of delicate and chaste'design. On the left 
of the main entrance is a thoroughly equipped hospital, with 
women physicians and trained nurses, prepared to handle the 
gravest cases oi accident or illness, and, adjoining this, a room 
filled with couches and hospital beds — a branch of the Depart- 
ment of Public Comfort — for such cases of indisposition as do not 
require serious or regular medical attention. On your right, as 
vou enter the buildinQ-. is a model kinderQ;arten, with all the 



>* 



^mm^:^^ 




^ ''^ iintiit iit Ittiljlill 



5» *f ' 







WOMAN S BUILDING. 



latest improvements for the education of the infant mind. In the 
south pavilion you find what is described as the ''Retrospective 
Exhibit," and in the north pavilion everything that relates to re- 
form work and charity organization. 

Upstairs, in the second story, are the ladies' parlors, commit- 
tee-rooms, and dressing-rooms, all leading to the open balcony 
in front. Adjoining these on one side is a great assembly room, 
while on the other are located a model kitchen and refreshment 
rooms. Above this floor, open to the air and surrounded by a 
supplementary colonnade, are the hanging gardens, which give 



113 

to the building, from the outside, somewhat the appearance of a 
Pompeiian villa. 

Having given yourself a thorough idea of the work of which 
woman is capable, you proceed to an inspection of the largest of 
the individual State buildings on the grounds, that of Illinois, 
which lies a little to the north on a piece of land surrounded on 
three sides by the waters of the system of lagoons. In size it is 
four hundred by one hundred and sixty feet, and in style severely 
classic, with a dome in the centre and a great porch facing south- 
ward. The interior, save for a space at one end reserved for a 
model school-house, is an unbroken rectangular hall, crowded 
with exhibits of the States' products and specialties. Now, for a 
time, you stroll about among the pavilions of the various States 
and Territories which are grouped in this part of the grounds, 
and which in their varied architectural features present a strong 
contrast to the larger structures at the southern end of the park, 
which, as you have observed, all bear a family resemblance. 
Wisconsin's building, for example, which you pass soon after 
leaving the Illinois building, is merely a Queen Anne cottage, 
three stories in height ; while on the space allotted to Florida, 
near the northern extremity of the grounds, is a full-sized re- 
production of old Fort Marion, which was built at St. Augustine 
in 1620, and which is believed to be the oldest building in the 
United States. This structure, you conclude, is well worth in- 
spection. It is, you learn, made of frame, but being covered 
with the phosphate rock of Florida it has the appearance of 
stone. Surrounding the fort is a moat, part of which is arranged 
as a sunken garden, in which you see growing the tropical plants 
of the State — the pine-apple, banana, rice, sugar cane, oranges, 
&c., while in another portion, filled with water, you get a glimpse 
of several alligators and crocodiles. The buildings of New York 
and Pennsylvania are, as a matter of course, somewhat preten- 
tious, but a number of the smaller States, you note, have 



114 

contented themsehes with French chateaus, Swiss chalets, and 
a dozen and one other all too common forms of construction. 
Now the pure Grecian Ionic architecture of the Fine Arts 
Building comes before you as a relief from the conglomerate col- 
lection of styles through which you have just passed. Its cool, 
light-gray walls and its brilliant blue dome, standing out fronv 
among groups of statues — replica ornaments of classic art — which 
adorn the grounds, are enhanced in beauty by the contrast, and 
you approach the structure with all the devotion and reverence 




ART BUILDING. 



that Art should command. Chmbing one of the four broad 
flights of steps that lead to the sculptured portals, you enter a 
vestibule, the walls of which are adorned with paintings illustrat- 
ing the history and progress of the arts. These you find extend 
also through the nave which runs the length of the building, and 
through the transept which divides the rectangle into four large 
galleries. In these passage-ways, too, are the exhibits of statu- 
ary and other sculpture. The four large galleries, and se^-eral 
smaller courts off from these, are devoted entirely to paintings — 



115 

one of the larger courts being filled with the United States' art 
exhibit ; another with the pictures of English artists ; the third 
with German art works ; and the fourth with the magnificent dis- 
play made by the Republic of France. When you have ex- 
hausted the pictures in which this building abounds you visit 
the annexes that are located to the east and the west, where you 
find an additional display of canvasses, water-colors, etchings, 
engravings, and architectural drawings gathered from the four 
corners of the globe. 

Between these art palaces, which, in view of their valuable 
contents, are the most substantially built of all the Exposition 
edifices, and the Fisheries Building, located about a thousand 
feet in a straight line to the south, are to be seen some of the 
principal foreign buildings, including those of Great Britain, Ger- 
many, France, Italy, Russia, Spain, Mexico, and some of the 
South American Republics. Here you find the fine old-looking 
English manor house — is it Hatfield or Sandringham ? — with its 
spacious armor-hung hall and its model garden. Here also are 
an ancient-appearing German castle ; an Aztec temple, such as 
one sees in various parts of Mexico ; and, on the plot assigned to 
Ecuador, a reproduction of the Incas' "Temple of the Sun," 
that you remember to have seen at the Paris Exposition of 1889. 

The Fisheries Building, which you now visit, is a somewhat 
ornate affair in the Spanish- Romanesque style, colored in imita- 
tion of the Cordova Cathedral, the archivalts being picked out 
in red blocks on a dull buff' ground, and the roofs appropriately 
painted a marine blue. In the centre of the main building is 
located a large basin or pool, from which rises a towering mass 
of rocks, covered with moss and lichens, and from the crevices 
of which gush crystal streams of water which drop to the reeds, 
rushes, and ornamental semi-aquatic plants in the basin below. 
Here gorgeous golden ides, golden trench, and other golden 
fishes disport themselves. From this point, too, you get a view 



ii6 

of one side of the larger series of aquaria, ten in number, and 
having a capacity of from seven thousand to twenty-seven 
thousand gallons of water each. Here, also, are numerous cases 
containing models of hsh of all kinds and from every clime. 
Passing out of the rotunda you reach a great corridor or arcade, 
where on one hand you view the opposite side of the series of 



.^'''^/' 



,^^ 




'•^^^ 



FISH AND FISHERIES BLILDING. 



great tanks, and on the other a line of tanks somewhat smaller, 
ranging in capacity from seven hundred and lifty to fifteen hun- 
dred gallons, making together a panorama that rivals that to 
be seen in any great permanent aquarium of the world. Part 
of these large tanks you notice are under ground, and as you 
stand watching you see rise up from the bottom an enormous 
shark, sword-fish, or some other mighty denizen of the deep. 



117 

In the annex on the other side of the rotunda you find an an-- 
ghng exhibit, including all sorts of fishing paraphernalia, com- 
prising rods, reels, nets, boats, &c. In this structure, too, are 
shown the methods of fish hatching and fish cultivation. 

Crossing the bay which skirts the Fisheries Building on the 
south the United States Government Building and grounds lie 
directly before you. The structure, you observe, is large and 
imposing, but by no means overburdened with ornaments. Rect- 
angular in plan, its centre is surmounted by an eight-sided dome, 
from which flies the Stars and Stripes of the Union, and its main 
entrance is beneath an heroic, sculpture-crowned arch of the 
triumphal order. Entering here you find yourself in the midst 
of a most interesting display. In the northern half are the 
exhibits of the Fisheries Commission, the Smithsonian Institute, 
and the Interior Department, while in the southern half you 
discover the exhibits of the Post-Office Department, Treasury 
Department, War Department, and Department of Agriculture. 
The United States Mint authorities show not only a complete 
collection of the coins of the United States, but a very excellent 
collection of the coins of foreign countries as w^ell ; the Super- 
vising Architect of the Treasury shows a number of photographs 
of the public buildings and parks at Washington, the Bureau 
of Engraving and Printing displays a complete collection of 
the paper money of the United States, and the Quartermaster's 
Department exhibits lay-figure ofiicers and men of all grades 
in the army, mounted and on foot, and fully equipped in the 
uniforms of their rank and service. In this same section you 
see nineteen figures showing the uniforms worn during the 
Revolutionary War and the War of 1812, and thirty-one fig- 
ures showang the uniforms worn in the Mexican War. Here, 
also, is an exhibition of how the telephone is used on the battle- 
field, together with an illustration of all the means of army tele- 
graphing and signaling. 



iiS 

In the Patent Office exhibit you come across a comprehen- 
sive array of models illustrating the wonderful progress of me- 
chanical civilization, one group showing the development of the 
printers' art, from Guttenberg's crude in\-ention to the latest 
rotary perfecting and folding printing press, and others demon- 
strating in similar manner the evolution of the steam engine, 
sewing machine, cszc. 

On the grounds of the Government Building, which are quite 
extensive, you find, aside from the armv encampment and the 



C .4 



% 






UNITED STATES GOVERNMENT BUILDINGS. 



exhibit of the Ordnance Department — consisting of huge guns 
and explosives — a life-saving station, built and equipped with 
every appliance, and manned by a crew giving practical exhi- 
bitions of the work done by this heroic branch of the service. 
But what interests you, probably, most of all is the exhibit here 
under cover, made by the Coast Survey, of a huge model of the 
United States, fully four hundred feet square, on a scale show- 
ing the exact height of the mountains, the length and depth of 
the rivers, and the curvature of the earth. This vou view from 



119 

galleries built around it, and from elevated pathways over which 
you travel the length and breadth of the country. 

The Naval exhibit, on board the full-sized model of a coast- 
line battle-ship, is the next object that claims your attention, and 
you walk past the snowy tents of the soldiers, the neatly-kept 
quarters of the life-saving guard, and the frowning guns of the 
Ordnance Department to the white promenade that borders the 
lake, where you stop to view at this distance the long white hull 
with its many port-holes and its belligerent-looking armament, 
from the midst of which rises its single mast, circled by two tops 
or balconies, over whose guards are pointed small rapid-firing 
guns. On the starboard side you see the rigging of the torpedo 
protection net, stretching the entire length of the vessel, while 
steam launches and cutters riding at the booms give to the 
whole all the outward appearance of a real ship of war. That 
it is not a real ship, but only a model built of brick and con- 
crete on a submerged platform in the lake, is due, you learn, to 
an old treaty between the United States and Great Britain for- 
bidding either power to have more than one war-ship on the 
lakes ; and this one, of course, has so much to do that it would 
be out of all reason to expect it to anchor here for exhibition 
purposes. 

Aboard the model, which has been named the Illinois, you 
find that it is not only a war-ship in outward appearance, but in 
interior fitting as well. A detail of officers, seamen, mechanics, 
and marines man the vessel, and as you go on board you dis- 
cover that a torpedo drill is in progress. An inspection of the 
battery shows you that it comprises four 13-inch breech-loading 
rifle cannon, eight 8-inch breech-loading rifle cannon, four 6-inch 
breech-loading rifle cannon, twenty 6-pounder rapid-firing guns, 
six i-pounder rapid-firing guns, two Gatling guns, and six tor- 
pedo tubes or torpedo guns. Below are the cabins, state-rooms, 
lavatories, latrines, mess-rooms, galleys, lockers, and berthings, 



I20 

giving an admirable idea how the men Hve on board a man-of- 
war ; while from the conning tower above you get a A'ery fair 
notion of how the commander of such a ship \dews an engage- 
ment in which he has entered and communicates his orders 
to the different parts of the vessel. As for the traditional 
naval uniforms from 1775 to 1848, you see them upon living 
models. 

Hailing a small boat from the top of one of the ladders that 
descend from the deck to the water's edge, you employ the 
boatman to convey you, by way of the bays and canals, across 
the Fair grounds to the Woman's Building again, whence you 
proceed on foot through the beautiful gardens surrounding this 
structure to the beginning of that strip of land, six hundred feet 
in width and a mile long, called the Midway Plaisance, which 
you find crowded with a congregation of bazaars of all nations. 
In order to get a view of this cosmopolitan avenue, you decide 
to walk from one end of it to the other, and at the western 
terminus you perhaps board one of the trains of the sliding 
water railway that attracted so much attention at the Paris 
Exposition, and that are said to be capable of making a speed 
of something like two hundred miles an hour. Xo such mo- 
mentum as this, however, is here attempted, but you are car- 
ried swiftly and smoothly over the polished rails. The Mid- 
way Plaisance leaves you with a confused impression of gorgeous 
marquees, picturesque kiosks, stately castles, ruined temples, 
hospitable posadas, gaily-colored theatres, long, cool-looking 
bungalows, and a host of other structures. You have been 
jostled by types of people from all the countries of the earth — 
the stalwart red Indian, wrapped in his blanket, emotionless as 
a stone, and concealing his wonder beneath a stolidity that you 
admire but cannot equal; the small, but alert, Japanese, with 
his loose dress caught up as if it were an obstacle that he would 
fain dispense with ; the almond-eyed Chinaman, with his braided 



121 



queue ; the turbaned Turk ; the Egyptian, with his inevitable 
red fez ; the briUiantly-uniformed attaches of the European com- 
missions ; the cool, white-clothed, and Panama-hatted hidalgo 
from Mexico or one of the Spanish-peopled countries of South 
America, and ordinary-looking folk like yourself from here, 
there, and everywhere. 

Among the more interesting features of this part of the Ex- 
position, where an extra price of admission is charged, and 
where you lind exhibits for sale as well as for show, you note a 
reproduction on a grand scale of a bit of Vienna as it Avas two 
hundred years ago ; two Irish villages, including a copy of 
Blarney Castle ; a West African village ; and a score of other 
more or less interesting features. 

An East Indian and a Turkish street are here, showing not 
only the wares peculiar to the country, but the mechanics, arti- 
sans, and professional entertainers. Here Egypt has reproduced 
one of Cairo's chief avenues, four hundred feet in length, lined 
with shops, cafes, dwellings, and amusement halls, and peo- 
pled with donkey-drivers, Egyptian serving-maids, dancing girls, 
jugglers, merchants, Avomen, and children. Japan, also, has a 
village picturing her architecture and scenes from her home-life, 
and China, exhibiting for the lirst time with the sanction of her 
government, presents to your gaze wonders hitherto never seen 
outside of the Flowery Kingdom. Beside all this you are con- 
fronted on every hand by panoramas, captive balloons, and ob- 
servation wheels. 

NoAv the day is nearly done, and the tops of the buildings 
are crimsoned by the setting sun. Far away, down the grounds, 
the dome of the Administration Palace is a great molten ball of 
flame, and the glass domes of some of the other structures are 
dazzling as mammoth gems, glittering with all the prismatic 
colors. Ten minutes more and the light has paled ; night's 
black robe is fa-lhng, and threatens to envelop everything in its 



122 

dusky folds, when suddenly, on all sides, from one extreme 
boundary of the park to the other, a million lights flash into 
brilliant being, and once more, though the skies be dark above, 
the avenues and water-ways of the \'ast inclosure are as lumin- 
ous as at noonday. Having seen the Exposition by daylight, 
you linger now to see it again in all the spectacular glory of its 
electrical illumination. You climb, perhaps, to the hanging gar- 
dens of the Woman's Pavilion, and from there let your gaze 
sweep southward over the great artificially-lighted area, thus 
getting a bird's-eye view that is well worth your while ; or it 
is possible that you engage one of those funereal-looking gon- 
dolas and drift lazily through the lagoons, whose depths are 
lighted with electric lamps arranged beneath the waters. A 
cool breeze from the lake fans your cheeks ; to your ears comes 
the music of the great orchestra playing some dreamy waltz, 
and as you loll back on your cushions you see darting here 
and there through the transparent depths below you curiously- 
shaped and colored artificial fishes and marine monsters, lighted 
and propelled by the electric currents. 

You remember that at Paris but three of the buildings were 
open in the evening. Here every one of the great halls is open 
and aglow with light. In all but the Fine Arts, the Administra- 
tion, and the Woman's Building arc lights are employed. In 
Machinery Hall there are six hundred ; in Agricultural Hall, six 
hundred ; in the Electric Building, four hundred ; in the Mines 
and Mining Building, four hundred ; in the Transportation Build- 
ing, four hundred and fifty ; in Horticultural Hall, four hundred ; 
in the Forestry Building, one hundred and fifty ; and in the Great 
Palace of the Liberal Arts, two thousand. Twelve thousand in- 
candescent lamps light the Fine Arts Building ; ten thousand 
more are ablaze in the Administration Building : and in the 
Woman's Buildmg there are one hundred and eighty arc lights 
and twenty-seven hundred incandescent lamps. 



When at length you approach the Grand Avenue the scene 
becomes more and more beautiful. Every window and archway 
of the great edifices here are sending out broad columns of light, 
illuminated fountains are throwing aloft their brilliant-hued waters, 
groups of white statuary stand out in bold and striking outline 
against the black shadows, and the golden ornaments of the en- 
trances to the several mammoth piles facing the Grand Canal 
flash and glitter in the flood of dazzling effulgence. 



EXCURSION TICKETS TO CHICAGO. 



34 50 
27 90 



Baltimore, Md. 
Bellefonte, Pa. 
Belvidere, N. J. . . . 5S 10 
Bo^dento^^^l, X.J. . 38 40 
Bridgeton, N.J. . . . 38 50 



Brooklyn, X. Y. 
Burlin^on, X. J. . . 
Camden, X. J. . . . 
Cape May, X. J. . . 

Carlisle, Pa 

Chambersburg, Pa. . 
Chestnut Hill, Pa. . 
Clearfield, Pa. 



40 00 
37 30 
36 50 

40 GO 

34 55 
34 ^5 
36 70 
28 30 



38 95 
40 00 
22 70 
38 10 
36 10 
20 45 

34 75 
29.25 
29 10 
40 CO 



The Pennsylvania Railroad Company will sell excursion tickets to 
Chicago, during the continuance of the Fair, from the stations named at 
the rates quoted below : — 

Atlantic City. N.J. . $38 50 Indiana, Pa. . . . 
Jamesburg, X'^. J. . 
Jersey City, X. J. . 
Johnstown, Pa. . 
Lambertville, X.J. 
Lancaster, Pa. . . 
Latrobe, Pa. . . . 
Lebanon, Pa. . . . 
Lewistown Jc, Pa. 
Lock Haven, Pa. . 
Long Branch, X'. J. 
Martinsburg, W. Va. 
Mechanicsburg, Pa. . 34 25 

■Media, Pa 36 50 

Middletown, Pa. . . 34 50 

]\Iifflin, Pa 29 95 

Milford, Del. , . . . 36 50 
Millville, X. J. . . . 38 So 
Monmouth Jc , X". J. . 38 95 
Montgomery-, Pa. . . 34 00 
Mount Holly, X. J. . 37 50 
Xew Brunswick, X.J. 39 65 
Xew York, X. Y. . . 40 00 
Xorristown, Pa. . • . 36 50 

Oxford, Pa 37 20 

Philadelphia, Pa. . . 36 50 
Philipsburg, Pa. . . 27 30 



Columbia, Pa 35 7° 



Cresson, Pa 

Dover, Del 

Elmira, X. Y 

Frenchtown, X.J. . 
Georgetown, Del. . . 
Germantown, Pa. . . 
Germantown Jc, Pa. 
Gettysburg Jc, Pa. . 
Greensburg, Pa. . . . 



24 10 
36 50 
34 00 
38 10 
36 50 
36 50 
36 50 
34 55 
19 65 



Hanover, Pa 34 50 

34 00 



Phillipsburg, X. J. . 


53S 10 


Phoenixville, Pa. . . 


36 50 


Poltstown, Pa. . . . 


36 50 


Pottsville, Pa. . . 


36 50 


Princeton, X. J. 


3S 70 


Rahway, X. J. . . . 


40 GO 


Reading, Pa 


36 50 


Red Bank, X.J. . . 


40 00 


Salem, X. J 


3S 50 


Sea Girt, X. J. . . . 


40 00 


Shenandoah, Pa. . . 


36 50 


South Amboy, X. J. . 


39 60 


Spring Lake, X. J . . 


40 00 


Sunburv, Pa 


34 00 


Trenton, X.J. . . . 


38 10 


L^n ion town. Pa. 


19 ^5 


Vineland, X. J. , . . 


3S 50 


Washington, D. C. . 


34 50 


West Chester, Pa. . 


36 50 


West Chester, Pa. (via 




Philadelphia) . . . 


37 30 


Wilkesbarre, Pa. . . 


34 75 


Williamsport, Pa. . . 


34 00 


Wilmington, Del. . - 


36 50 


Winchester, Ya. . . 


37 15 


Woodbury, X. J. . . 


37 05 


York, Pa 


34 50 



Harrisburg, Pa. 

Hoboken, X. J. . . . 40 00 
Huntingdon, Pa. . . 27 05 

Tickets will also be sold from all other principal stations on the 
Pennsyh'ania Railroad System at proportionate rates. In addition to 
the above rates excursion tickets will also be sold to Chicago, valid on 
trains scheduled to run between New York and Chicago in thirty-five 
hours or more at twenty per cent, less than the rates quoted above. 

The rates as given above apply to tickets reading over the Penn- 
sylvania Railroad and Penns^'lvania Lines in both directions. 

There are other forms of tickets on sale so arranged as to permit the 
traveler to go to Chicago via one route and return via a different route. 

For particular and special information of this character and for res- 
ervation of sleeping car accommodations, application should be made 
to the ticket agents of the Pennsylvania Railroad. 



PRINCIPAL EXPRESS TRAINS 

BETWEEN 

NEW YORK AND CHICAGO, 

LEAVE AND ARRIVE AS FOLLOWS: 

g.cx) A. M. — Columbian Express. Philadelphia 11.30 A. M., Washington 10.15 -^- ^^-j 
Baltimore 11.20 A. TvL, Harrisburg 2.25 P. rvl., Altoona 5.45 P. M. ; arrive at Pittsburg 
9.00 Eastern time, S.oo P. M. Central time, and Chicago 10.00 A. M. next morning. Pull- 
man Vestibule Sleeping Cars, Dining Cars, Parlor Smoking Cars, and Coaches through 
to Chicago. 

12.00 Noon. — Pennsylvania Limited. Philadelphia 2.20 P. M., Washington i.io 
P. ^L, Baltimore 2.15 P. M., Harrisburg 5.00 P. ^vl., Altoona 8.20 P. M., arrive at Pitts- 
burg 11.30 Eastern time, 10.30 P. M. Central time, and Chicago 12.00 Noon next day. 
Solid Vestibule Train of Drawing and State-Room Sleeping Cars, Parlor Smoking, Coni- 
posite Observation, and Dining Cars through to Chicago. 

2.00 P. M. — St. Louis, Cincinnati and Chicago Express. Philadelphia 4.30 P. M., 
Washington 3.15 P. M,, Baltimore 4.23 P. M., Harrisburg 7.30 P. M., Altoona 10.50 P. ^l. ; 
arrive at Pittsburg 2.10 Eastern time, i.io A. 'M. Central time, and Chicago, via Pan 
Handle Route, at 5.30 P. ]\I. Pullman A^estibule Sleeping Cars, Dining, and Parlor 
Smoking Cars. 

6.30 P. M. — Western Express. Philadelphia 9.20 P. M., Washington 7.40 P. M., 
Baltimore 8.55 P. M., Harrisburg 12.25 A. M., Altoona 4.10 A. M. ; arrive at Pittsburg 
7.45 Eastern time, 6.45 A. M. Central time, and Chicago 9.30 P. ]M. Pullman Vestibule 
Sleeping and Dining Cars through to Chicago. 

8.00 P. M. — Pacific Express. Philadelphia 11.20 P. M., Washington 10.40 P. M., 
Baltimore 11.50 P.M., Harrisburg 3.10 A.M., Altoona 8.00 A.M.; arrive at Pittsburg 
12.10 P. M. Eastern time, 11. 10 A. M. Central time, and Chicago, via Pan Handle Route, 
at 7.30 A. M. the following morning. Pullman Vestibule Sleeping Cars through to 
Chicago. 

BETWEEN CHICAGO AND NEW YORK. 

10.45 A. M. — Keystone Express. Arrive at Pittsburg 12.05 A. M. Central time, 1.05 
A. M. Eastern time, Altoona 4.50 A. M., Harrisburg S.25 A. M., Baltimore 11. 15 A. M., 
Washington 12.20 P. M., Philadelphia 11.25 A. M., and New York 2.03 P. ^l. next day. 
Pullman Vestibule Sleeping, Dining, and Parlor Smoking Cars and Coaches. 

9.50 A. M. — Atlantic Express (via Pan Handle Route). Arrive Pittsburg 2.20 A. ^L 
Central time, 3.20 A.M. Eastern time, Altoona 6.55 A. ]M., Harrisburg 10.30 A. M., Balti- 
more 3.10 P. M. (week-days), Washington 4.30 P. M. (week-days), Philadelphia 1.25 P. ^L, 
and New York 4.00 P. M. Pullman Vestibule Sleeping, Dining, and Parlor Smoking Cars. 

3.15 P. M.— Day Express. Arrive at Pittsburg 6.40 A. M. Central time, 7.40 A. M. 
Eastern time, Altoona 11.40 A. 'M., Harrisburg 3.20 P. M., Baltimore 6.45 P. M., Wash- 
ington 8.15 P.M., Philadelphia 6.50 P. :\I., and Xew York 9.35 P.M. Pullman \^estibule 
Sleeping and Dining Cars. 

5.00 P. M. — Pennsylvania Limited. Arrive at Pittsburg 6.00 A. M. Central time. 
7.00 A. M. Eastern time, Altoona 10.3s A. M., Harrisburg 1.55 P. M., Baltimore 4.4.0 
P. M., Washington 5.55 P. M., Philadelphia 4.45 P. :\I., and Xew York 7.00 P. M. Solid 
Vestibule Train of Drawing and State-Room Sleeping Cars, Parlor Smoking, Compos- 
ite Observation and Dining Cars. 

7.30 P.M.— Philadelphia Express (via Pan Handle Route). Arrive at Pittsburg 2.35 
P. ]\L Central time, 3.35 P. ]\I. Eastern time, Altoona S.50 P. rvL, Harrisburg i.oo A. Tvl., 
Baltimore 6.20 A. M., W^ashington 7.30 A. M., Philadelphia 4.30 A. M., and X'ew York 
7,33 A. M. next day. Through Pullman Sleeping Cars. 

11.30 P. M.— Fast Line. Arrive at Pittsburg 4.50 P. M. Central time, 5.50 P. M. 
Eastern time, Altoona 11.55 P- ^^-^ Harrisburg 3.30 A.^M.. Baltimore 6.20 A. M., Wash- 
ington 7.30 A. M., Philadelphia 6.50 A. M., and Xew York 9.30 A. M. second morning 
(week-days), and 10.35 -'^- ^I- Sundays. Pullman Sleeping Car. 



/ 



^^and a CTO^d iiote 1,2^^011 can 
or ivro persons • T":e restau- 
)ns of .aodcj'ate tastes can 



is a coed --"^ • ^^^^-^^ +-■ --^-t a 
j Gate- and is elicapjclean 

1 it is better to take rieals 



. in front 0"' Midv;ay "Plai- 
le re];iark applies to restaii- 








^{^i 






«; 




"Park Gate Hotel" just i.; fro.it of c:itranee,a:id a r,ool hotel, you can 

ct a larr:c .roovn for $3.oo per Jay, for one or ivro pcrsoni;. T\e restau- 
rant is .-;ocd,and very reaconablc. Tvm persons of -ioderatc tastes can 
live here for not ot exceed OG.oo per d&y . 

Hotel Alfonso, 22'i to 2GB Sixty Third Street is a -ood pl-,-_ ',, :: - 
■ ,,-t '1 ■;_ not .luite so L'ood ar the Pai'k Gate- and is cheap, olean 
and respectable. The restaurant is peer, and it is better to take :iealn 
;.t Park Gate Hotel restaurar-t. 

otel P.os-lie,ai-:d also Rosalie Cotta'-:e,both in front of '.lidway Plai- 
caniee,are ;;oo-l and .-lOderate l-ouses. Tlie s&ie rei.-iark applies to restau- 
rant. But rooras are r:ood, clean, and tid.y,v/-hou:;h snail. $2.oo per day 
for t\Yo persons, simli^y to sleep, is the ref^ilar price, ti;ou:;h you can 
have larger rooms for $^oo per da.y for tv/o persons. Tlvat is,o;ie larfje 
.■:o:n v/ith double bed, or t\7o sin;;lc beds. 

Take little ba;v:",ar:e. Better if you can ;2:o v.'it]: L'rip sack a:id 
h-undle of ru.^rs only. You can ;-et off the train at Grand Avenue Cross- 
in^;, and take an Illinois Central suburban train for Gord street sta- 
tion, and you are at the hotel. But there a hundred hotels near r,ere._ ^ 

Then vmen you finish tr.e Fair,:;o in tov.Ti and take a rnn.n ih 
one of the finer hotels for a day or t\7o,and see Cricaio. 

/:;u can write to C.K.Dorn A. Co for ro^^as at Hotel Alfonso, or the Rosa- 
lie hotel and ootta-os. They will r'-'-v- ----- ^'-.^ ,!;,fpc l. ^^ f. rr- be 




NEW YORK HARBOR. 






ORIENT. 



LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 



011 272 050 9 







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